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Full text of "The San Franciscan (May 1885-June 1886)"

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Postscripts.... Derrick Dodd 

The Man Who Was Guiltv— Chapters I, II 

Mrs. Flora Haines Appooyi 

Short Bits Francesca 

Woman's Realm F. E. W. 

Tns Rambler '&if J- 

Rami ies Among Books.. .'V*. Ferret 

Editorial: The Dawning of Socialism; A State Prison Moral In- 
structor; Cigarette Smoking; Death of General McDowell; Stu- 
art M. Taylor 

Aboit Town Fingal Buchanan 

The Artists Midas 

The Resets of Greely Chav H. Harlow 

The Merit of Lord Bacon Prof. David Swing 

Current Flk 

Tendencies of the Stage 

Amusements Dorothy 

Russia in Central Asia 

DsrtcTS of Opera 

PoETk v : My Foe ; The Gouty Merchant ; Still Will We Trast ; The 
Petrified Fern; Not So Nice As It Reads; The Chemist to His 
, Love; Da Capo 

As his remains were not called for in three days,' he was 
buried at the expense of the corporation. 

President Barrios has hardly time to get settled in 
his tomb before the news comes that the Consul sent by 
him to New York has worked up the remains into a fifty- 
verse poem. This verifies anew the old Spanish proverb, 
" Do a man a favor, and he will never forgive you/' 

Mean Temperature. — Henry Ward Beecher and Mr. 
Blaine met at the same dinner-table in New York last 
Tuesday, and the few guests who escaped being frost- 
bitten testify that the soup had to be cut with a knife, 
and the chicken salad was frozen so stiff that the waiters 
dished it up with a cold chisel. 

High Low Jack is the latest saddle-tinted aboriginee 
engaged in the cheerful pastime of stuffing the mattresses 
of his tribe with settler-scalps. He believes that none 
but the brave deserve the hair; but it will be High Low 
Jack and the Game when Crook catches him. 



A Noble Deed.— There was a crowded temperance 
lecture at Marysville the other day, and the audience was | 
very much affected at the speaker's pathetic account of 
bow a faithful wife had borne the abuse and ill-treatment 
of a drunken brute for years, and finally r. claimed him 
on her death-bed. As the audience was wiping its eyes 
and sniffling vigorously, a sad-faced man in a fatigued 
looking ulsttr, arose in the center of the hall and said, in 
a melancholy tone — 

"The incident related by the talented speaker is'cer- 
tainl v very interesting, but a case recently came under my 
notice that illustrates even in a greater degree the hero- 
ism and self-sacrifice on the part of woman — noble 
woman ! " 

" Will the gentleman oblige by relating his experi- 
ence 5 " urged the lecturer. 

" Well, I am not used to public speaking," observed 
the thin man, " but I will do my best." 

" Go on, go on ! " shouted the sympathetic listeners. 

"The episode to which I refer," said the man with the 
called-in overcoat, " relates to the heroic act of a Mrs. 
Maria K. Diffenheimer, of Windy Gulch, Wyoming. 
Learning that a lonely w idow woman living about fifteen 
miles out in the forest, was stricken down by the fell 
hand of disease, she resolved, although the snow was 
twenty-seven feet deep on the ground, and a fearful 
storm raged at the time, to take to the poor creature in 
her hour of need, the only succor that would assuage her 

" God bless her ! " sobbed several persons. 

"Strong men — miners, hunters — inured to exposure 
and narOSKip. shrank f r om accompanying her; »; one 
volunteered. It was almost certain death to brave the 
trackless forests on that bitter night: but the noble 
woman never faltered. There was a precious human life 
hanging in the balance, and she would go alone." 

" What man would have dene so? " aied one of the 
female Vice Presidents. 

" For two days and three nights that devoted woman 
toiled on through the blinding tempest. With both feet 
and one hand frozen, she tottered through the gigantic 
snow drifts, until at length she managed to crawl to the 
cabin of the lonely invalid. She had barely strength left, 
as she fell exhausted upon the floor, to hand to the yet 
lingering sufferer the priceless boon she had brought." 

"And what was it?" shouted the entire audience, as 
the emotion-choked narrator paused to dash away a tear. 
. "It was, my friends," said the thin man, reaching 
under his seat for a valise — " it was a box of Skaggs's Ori- 
ental Cathartic Pills " (and he scattered a handful of cir- 
culars), " which I would now like to furnish you all with, 
at the low price of two bits per box. None genuine with- 
out the maker's name on the " 

Had The Floor.— The other morning as a crowded 
Market street car gave the usual violent lurch at starting, 
a sort of dime museum fat-man who stood in the center, 
sat down on the floor with a tremendous crash. After 
the conductor had crawled under the car to see if the 
axles were sprung, the victim looked placidly around and 
said : "As the seats are all full, and as I'm too tired to 
stand, I will remain where I am, if there is no objection." 
There being no objection, the bill passed, and the meet- 
ing proceeded with the regular order. 

seat of one's office pants, as a steady thing ; but if the 
genius is a married man, and is groping round in the dark 
and his night-shirt for the paregoric bottle, with every 
rocking-chair in the room slogging him under the belt, 
the only safe plan is to kneel dowmand crawl around the 
room backwards, until he strikes the mantel-piece. He 
can then fumble for the match-box, and swear, if he likes; 
but our advice is for George to try to find the paregoric 
by the sense of smell alone. But if you strike the lauda- 
num bottle by mistake, you will never regret it, George, 
never regret it. 

"There!" exclaimed the Arizona editor, as a bullet 
came through the window and shattered the paste-pot, 
" I knew that pew ' Personal ' column would be a suc- 
cess ! " 

A convent is advertised for sale at Rosedale, Alabama. 
Nothing is said as to its possessing all the modern con- 
veniences, nor is it stated whether the good-will and fix- 
tures go with the property. There is no money in nun- 
neries this year, it seems. Breweries appear to have the 
inside track, as it were. 

Last week a member of the Louisiana Legislature fel 
over a chair while putting on a clean shirt, and bnke his 
arm. There were ho broken arms in our Legislature. 

The wife of a down-town merchant, who has been 
" on the Continent " fifteen years, writes him that she is ! 
taking English lessons preparatory to visiting home this 

A man in South Carolina exhibits a rooster that barks 
like a dog. That's nothing. Around these parts the bar- 
room sitters have been crowing like roosters ever since 
election. * • 

A Rear Guard. — Little Jimmy Diffenderfer found a 
garter snake in the park last Sunday, and he brought it 
home and hid it in the piano. When his sister's young 
man opened the piano that evening to perpetrate "Sweet 
Violets," he thought he had 'em again, and yelled like a 
Piute on the war-path. Jimmy failed to prove an alibi, 
and his father said he would reasoi; with him in the , 
wood-shed after dinn?r. When the family sat down to • 
table Jimmy solemnly entered in his stocking feet, and 
carrying a pillow, up ,n which he carefully sat down. 

" Wha* new mo ikey shine is this?" growled old D. 

"S-s-s-V " whispered Jimmy. "I was playing 
firework ~~?.\.n Billy Simpson this afternoon, and I swal- 
lowed a torpedo." 

"Did, eh?" 

" Yes; and if anything should touch me kinder sudden, 
I might go off and be all tored to pieces." 
So the snake indemnity bill was laid on the table. 

Some mean exchange says the last editorial in the 
Argonaut is to be graded, fenced, rolled, and used as a 
two-mile race-track. That's just about all the apprecia- 
tion we geniuses get. 

Wanted a Show.—" Jimmy," said one of our boodle- 
crats the other day, to his son, "didn't you promise that 
you'd put that last five hundred dollars I gave you into 

the bank?" 
" Yessir; so I did." 

" What bank, sir?" thundered the parent. 
"IH not deceive you, Guv'nor. I put it in a faro 

"A faro bank, you young scoundrel !" 

" Why, yessir. You didn't suppose I was going to put 
it in a saving's bank, and loose every dem cent ! I 
wanted some show for m> white alley." 

And the parent wept for joy th^t his son was not quite 
a begum idiot. Thus ended one of the familiar episodes 
of w ild life in the Far West. 

A Silas Wright, of Hoboken, has been left eight million 
pounds sterling by an Enelish relative. We would rather 
be Wright than be President. 

Granville, Indiana, has produced a toy terrier weighing 
just seventeen ounces. Out here we have Newfound- 
lands within the pound. 

The question arises, Who will Boucicault leave his 
prosperous " farewell tour" business to? 

Fast friends : The stock-brokers. 

A Striking Appeal.— George T. Saunders is wasting 
this good fishing weather by writing poetry for the Argo- 
naut. He propounds the following agonized query : 

Outstretched the hand ot genius gropes. 
Where can it strike a kindred spark.' 

That depends entirely upon circumstances, George. 

There is no more reliable place to strike a light than the 

" Pants are now cut wider in New York," and the 
young men there no longer have to grease their legs 

before dressing. 

It is true, as stated by a New York paper, that " Noth- 
ing but coral ornaments will be seen this summer on our 
belles." Then this would seem to be the time for the 
cough-medicine men to get in a few column ads. 

There is nothing so holy and inexpensive as a sister's 


A hotel cook was drowned at Santa Cruz last year, and 
the visitors there propose getting up a sort of anniversary 
festival this season. 

Girls with new stockings will be glad to know that this 
year many wire fenres have been erected in the vicinity 
of the Fairfax picnic grounds. 

One More. —One by one the roses fade. If there 
was one officer in the late war in whom Americans took 
unalloyed was Admiral Farragut; and now a 
cashiered lieutenant comes to the fore with the statement 
that the heroic old sea dog lashed himself to the shrouds 
of the Hartford solely because the fight began just after 
dinner, and he was full of Roederer, mashed ice and 
things. We intended to become a hero ourselves, one of 
these days, but this lets us out. 





He did not look like a convict. There were fine lines 
on his face, his forehead was intellectual, and his eyes 
had a studious and reflective habit. Had I met him any- 
where else, I should have pronounced him a gentleman 
by instinct and breeding, and withal a man of refined pur- 
suits. His coat, too— a garment of some non-committal 
gray-mixed Stuff— helped to perfect the illusion, and only 
the strip*, d pantaloons proclaimed a ward of the state. 

Business is business, and I could ill afford to waste time 
analyzing my impressions. 

" May I ask what is the charge against you?" I said, 
delicately, to open conversation with the fellotf. '. «* 

He looked ine square in the eye for a moment^* axil*, to, 
fathom my motive for questioning him. 

" I stole ten thousand dollars from the Fank"-of;'Y£jba 
Buena," he said, bluntly. " 1 believe they i;?Hed it '^m.- 

This staggered me. A young college graduate and newly 
fledged reporter on the staff of the San Francisco Hornet, I 
was still in that verdant stage ot experience when journal- 
ism appears to be a lofty calling, conducted for the ame- 
lioration of the race rather than for personal profit, and 
various philosophical questions were revolving in my 
brain, to be dished up for the benefit of the public. I 
had already precipitated upon the community a hot and 
animated discussion of the causes governing the origin 
and growth of the hoodlum population. Clergymen con- 
sidered it in their pulpits, orators debated it upon the 
rostrum. It was made the subject of leading editorials, and 
I had fanned the popular flame by publishing a series of 
opinions on the subject, gleaned from interviews with the 
prominent men of the coast. Following this, it occurred 
to me that it would be unique as well as interesting to in- 
terview some representative members of the criminal class 
itself, regarding the influences which had operated to 
bring them to grief. 

" I don't think, my boy," said the friendly warden, as 
the great iron gates of San Quentin creaked dismally be- 
hind us, " I don't think, my boy, that a word of caution 
will be amiss. You say this is your first visit to a state 
prison. Remember that you are among a cunning lot of 
men, with whom deception and falsehood are habitual. 
You'll find, when you come to question them, that there, 
isn't a guilty man among them. Don't be hoodwinked." 

If I colored a little under this well-meant admonition, 
I resolved none the less to behave like an experienced 
man of the world. Subsequent events justified the 
warden's prediction. A singular and almost universal 
innocence appeared to prevail among the permanent resi- 
dents of San Quentin, and the stories to which I listened 
would have wrung the heart of a credulous humanitarian. 
The population seemed to be exclusively composed ol 
victims of conspiracy and prejudice; highwayman who 
had stopped stages when out on a lark, and forced express 
messengers to disgorge their treasures at the muzzles of 
empty rifles; men who roused from a prolonged drunk to 
find themselves under arrest for murder; horse-thieves 
who had borrowed strange steeds, designing to return 
them before their absence was discovered ; forgers who had 
playfully put familiar signatures at the bottoms of checks, 
and then filled them out and cashed them in moments of 
forgetfulness ; and every man of them was on the alert to 
make proselytes to faith in his innocence, in the further- 
ance of certain deep-laid plans by which he expected to 
achieve his deliverance from the vile durance in which he 
MM held. 

I looked, therefore, with not a little curiosity and surprise 
at this fellow, who stood up so boldly as his own accuser. 
"And your name?" I said, briefly. 
" Lawrence Hale." 

A train of recollections awakened at his reply. Five 
years before, while I was in the junior class at the I i.i- 
versity of California, San Francisco society had been 
stirred by an event which struck to its very core, when 
young Lawrence Hale, a trusted employee of one of the 
soundest commercial institutions in the state, had been 
found guilty of appropriating the funds of trie bank, and 
was sentenced to San Quentin for an unconscionable term 
of years. The fellow had acted like a fool in the outset, for 
when he had got safely off in a country where no extra- 
dition law could touch him, what did he do but give him- 
self up voluntarily to a crazy detective who had gone out 
there on a wild-goose chase, and come back like a lamb 
to the slaughter. 

Egad, how the fellow must have suffered! He was 
little more than twenty at the time — a mere boy — and 
ranked a veritable Adorns in society; and here he was, 
five years later, looking like a man of forty, with the hard, 
tense tines about his face which are the unmistakable rec- 
ord of severe mental ton are But he was a handsome 
man still — i:he handsomest I ever saw, I remember think- 
ing, as 1 stared at him with a boy's undisguised sympathy. 

He weakened under the look. His lips set in a straight, 
prim line, and a quiver shot over his face, as if for a | 
moment th'i i iftid guard he had set upon himself was in 

I danger of giving way. In an instant, however, the ex- 
I pression of calm endurmce had returned, and he lifted 
hi eye* to me in cool inr» rrogation. 

To bridge the embarrassment of the moment, I rattled 
off to him, in what must have seemed a very ingenuous 
way, the motives which had prompted my visit to the 
penal institution, winding up with u lame apology. 

"And if you would be so kind as to help me out a lit- 
tle from your own experience, Mr. Hale— don't think I 

confound you with the rest " 

He cut me short with anothei of those penetrating 
glances, that somehow reminded me of a blow straight 
from the shoulder. 

"There is no reason for making any distinction. I 
am here on precisely the same level as my fellow-prisi m- 
ers." He squared his shoulders resolutely, as if to meet 
and sustain the full burden of his crime. " If there is 
any difference in our early training, so much the less ex- 
cusable the taint I have incurred. If I hold myself free 
.from fuTtKcr contamination in the midst of these sur- 
roundings "'-—with a slight wave of his hand, indicating 
the forbidding quadrangle with its moving population of 
low-browed ruffians, and the murky air reeking with foul 
•and unclean, language — "that is my own affair, and a 
matter of future demonstration." The concluding words 
had a ring of despondency, and his head bent forward, 
while his eyes sought the damp pavement. 
He was the first to break the silence which ensued. 
" You wish me to recapitulate the causes which have 
made me what I am. I might answer, briefly, 'Specula- 
tion in stocks '; but there must be some inner downfall 
in a man's moral nature before he can risk, for his own 
selfish gain, funds which are intrusted to his honor. 
You will excuse me now, sir, I have some finishing 
touches to give a lot of furniture that is to be shipped to 
the city to-morrow. If I have made a failure of life in 
other ways, I am making a small success as a cabinet- 
maker." The first faint glimmer of a smile that I had per- 
ceived, played about his lips as he bowed himself away. 



Lawrence Hale's flight to China, on the eve of the dis- 
covery of his defalcation, was his one cowardly act. Be- 
fore the Gaelic was out of sight of land he would gladly 
have recalled the step. He asked himself what consola- 
tion or relief he could expect in a foreign land, with the 
dark shadow of an unatoned crime forever following him. 
W ith the. secret consciousness of guilt in his heart, wouid 
he ever be able to look a fellow -man in the eye without a 
miserable sense of hypocricy, and the conviction that if 
the truth were known he would be spurned by every 
honest man? A thousand times better to return and 
biavely face the penalty of his crime. When the Oceanic 
reached Hongkong, a week after his arrival, and .i keen- 
faced little individual with ferret-like eyes sprang on shore, 
the first man he perceived was Lawrence Hale, haggard 
and hollow-eyed, pacing up and down the wharf. The 
detective decided at once upon the tactics to which he 
would resort in bagging his prey. Clapping him upon 
the shoulder in a genial way, he cried — 

" A fine day, Hale ! And so I shall have the pleasure 
of your company on the steamer Saturday." 

Hale shook off his touch, and quietly faced him. 

" No extradition can reach me here, old fellow. But 
you will have my company all the same, and you can get 
out your papers when we run into San Francisco." 

The detective viewed him with a curiosity not unmixed 
with suspicion. The calling he pursued was one calcu- 
lated to inspire anything but an optimistic, view of human 
nature. A man whose moral constitution was so lax as to 
enable him to plunder his fellow-citizen of thousands of 
doilars without a qualm, and who was yet burdened with 
conscientious scruples that debarred him from making the 
most of his liberty when he had escaped beyond the pale of 
legal jurisdiction, was a moral anomaly, a spiritual mon- 
strosity, partaking of the nature of both hypocrite and 
knave. He would bear watching 

During the days that followed, Malt -1 with quiet 
amusement that wherever he went thro. . trie nnrrow 
streets of the ill-smelling fniekm city, his steps were per- j 
sistently dog:;i.d. On. s..\<ral occasions he turned and 
encountered fleece face to face and that worthy greeted | 
him with an a-sumptr n of indifference that ill sufficed to j 
cover his secret anxiety lest the game he had come so far j 
and gone to such expense to capture should yet succeed in 
eluding him. As Hale boarded the steamer a week later, 
he noted with some compassion that the rubicund little . 
man who followed at his heels had ]#rceptibly thinned ! 
and paled in the prosecution of his self-appointed vigils. I 
Once relieved from his apprehensions, the detective, bar- j 
ring a grim undertone of authority, became a pleasant . 
and genial companion, and would have treated the voyage 
as a jolly episode of travel had not Hale's graver mood 
precluded such a possibility. 

It was nearly dusk on a summer night when the huge ! 
ocean steamer drew up to the wharf in the southern por- 
tion of San Francisco. The half menacing, half protect- 
ive air the detective had assumed toward Hale on the 
high seas, was exchanged for an air of arrogant authority 
as he beheld his prey safe within the jurisdiction of the 
pot. As the boat's side groaned against the timbers of 

the dock he produced a pair of steel hanc-cuffs and 
clapped them upon his prisoner, v, ho submitfe to the in- 
dignity without a w.jrd of protest or appeal. 

Even in the dim light it was apparent. thai ai, unusually 
large number of people were gathered at the landing to 
receive the great ship's human cargo. Fleece observed 
the circumstance with undisguised gratification, and 
pressed his way to the front, blandly receiving the enthusi- 
astic cheers accorded to him and his charg*. As he 
stepped along the gangway he made an admit turn to one 
side to avoid the crowd, and roughly assisted I file into a 
cab, summoning a blue-coated officer to a sett on the 
driver's box, in ostentatious precaution. 

As the vehicle sped along Second street the prisoner 
leaned forward and looked through the open window, in- 
haling in long, deep-drawn breaths the fresh v^or of the 
ocean breeze, already waving its phantom banners of 
mist over the western hills. 

Returning to his country after a set ret and shameful 
flight, with the prospect before him ol sen ing out a felon's 
sentence, the young fellow was suddenly mOved by some 
deep latent sentiment of patriotism, an! lit thanked God 
that he was bom in a land where justice was dealt out 
with an impartial hand, and the same principle of society 
which demanded retribution for a crime • jromitted, held 
out a promise of redemption to the man who honestly re- 
pented of his error, and made earnest effort at reparation. 

The ground on either side of the roadway climbed 
higher and higher, until the lights from the houses on 
each side twinkled like stars along the I'erge of a rocky 
chasm. As the street emerged from th. shadows the 
prisoner looked back, straining his eyes to discern the 
outlines of a quaint Gothic, cottage, perched like an eyrie 
on the highest point of Rincon Hill. At that instant a 
light gleamed through the window of an upper room, 
piercing the darkness — a symbol and a promise. Some- 
thing very like a sob burst from the young man's lips at 
the sight. 

"Oh, come now, brace up! Don't be trying to get a 
sight of home, or worry over what the folk are thinking. 
Keep a stiff upper lip for the boys. Those newspaper 
chaps will be round you, thick as bees, in five minutes 
more, ready to gauge every breath you draw and tally 
down every beat of your pulse," admonished Fleece, not 
unkindly. " Hear about Halford, of the daily Commer- 
cial, at O'kane's execution, last month? Begged leave 
to go on the scaffold just as they were pullin, the black 
cap over the villain's head; stalked up to 0'K.ane, note- 
book in hand, and asked the rascal if he'd be kind enough 
to wriggle his toes as long as he was conscious. I'm blest 
if newspaper enterprise don't mean something nowadays." 

Having indulged in this enlivening bit of reminiscence, 
Fleece leaned back in his seat, flattering himself that he 
he was treating his ward like a gentleman. 

He really had reason to feel very kindly toward Hale. 
The young fellow's defalcation had occurred at a most 
opportune moment, when the city was becoming insup- 
twrtable with its monotony of virtue, and work in his line 
had almost wholly ceased. He had started across the 
ocean on a wild-goose chase, mocked by his associates, 
discouraged by his friends, and a prey to secret misgiv- 
ings of his own, trusting only to the luck that had never 
deserted him, and a swift apprehension and stern intimi- 
dation of the fugitive, abetted by the latter's probable 
ignorance of international law ; and behold! he had found 
his worst forebodings verified, and the criminal fully aware 
of the advantages of his position. Yet Hale had yielded 
himself up without demur, and the officer was returning 
in triumph, when he might well have served as the butt 
of public ridicule. 

They were passing along Montgomery street— lined 
with tall buildings, whose dark fronts and deserted pave- 
ments bespoke the cessation of the day's busy labor- 
pausing once where the street was blocked by an excited 
throng who crowded about a newspaper bulletin-board. 
The detective took advantage of the momentary halt to 
thrust his head out of the window, and a broad smile of 
satisfaction crossed his face as he read the announcement : 



' ,y^.ni*nler //;/' V 1 >- n.ex^nrvr, jy tJie Abu- 
> DeUctiv: S. B. FUfce. 

The crowd parted, and the cab rattled noisily over the 
pavement, making a swift turn into a narrow lane lined 
with dingy buildings. A sudden halt told that their 
journey's end had been attained. The prisoner was so 
absorbed in thought that he did not observe the rough 
crowd who had gathered about the entrance to the prison 
to do honor to the arrival of a distinguished guest. As he 
stepped from the cab he stumbled, and, throwing up his 
manacled hands in an ineffectual effort to save himself, 
would have fallen to the ground had not Fleece seen his 
plight and sprung to his relief. • A jeer arose from the 
coarse observers, caught up and repeated by dark forms 
in the rear, until the mocking cry changed to a fiendish 
shout of exultation— the demoniacal rejoicing of a multi- 
tude of human beings over the downfall of a fellow- 
creature. If the prisoner recognized its import he gave 
no sign, but moved with firm and measured step into a 
great bare room containing a number of lounging police- 
men. A massive iron door opened and closed Jbehind 


him ; he was conducted along a dark passage-way, through 
a barred gate, into a brightly lighted office, and stood in 
the presence of the Captain of the prison. 

In the world without Hale had been a person of some 
consequence — a gay young society fellow whose career 
had been nipped short by one false step; a daring vil- 
lain who had spirited away the funds of his em- 
ployers. Here his identity was lost, his individuality 
obliterated. He was simply one of many thousand 
other criminals who annually came and went, who must 
be fed and housed and cursed into submission to the 
rules, or, if need be, locked in a dark cell and starved 
into compliance. An animated and prolonged discus- 
sion arose regarding the quarters to which the new comer 
should be assigned. 

In their consideration of the weighty question of the 
disposition of his physical frame the prison officials paid 
no regard to the movements of the prisoner, who sank 
down upon a wooden chair and surveyed the scene before 
him with unconcealed loathing and disgust. The air reeked 
with vile odors and foul gases, and the lights burned with 
a dim and sickly glare. The uneven stone floor was 
coated with slime and mottled with patches of filth. One 
side of the long open passage into which he had been 
ushered was lined with a succession of great cages with 
barred fronts, and through the gratings the haggard faces 
of men and women, like caged wild beasts, looked out 
upon him. Kvery type and phase of vice were there, 
from the low-browed, brutal faces of abandoned ruffians, 
to the weak features, with their lines of indecision, which 
characterized the novice in crime; while in the dim 
shadows, standing or sitting apart from their fellows, he 
noted the melancholy visages of men whom fatality or 
want, or a moment's wild indulgence of passion, had 
plunged into the devouring maelstrom of sin. 

During his listless observation he marked one singular 
fact which after experience confirmed. Whereas among 
the men varying grades of guilt and degradation were 
discernible, and the humbled and remorseful faces of a 
few held out a faint promise of regeneration, the women 
appeared to have sunk to one common level of depravity. 
Whether because from the shining heights of pure and 
sinless womanhood the impetus of the unhappy crea- 
tures' fall had served to carry them to a greater depth of 
iniquity, or because of the intricate manner in which all 
feminine virtues are interwoven and made dependent the 
one upon the other, so that the breaking of a single 
stitch leads to the destruction of the whole fabric, certain 
it is that upon every woman's face was written the lan- 
guage of irrevocable moral pollution. Crazed by liquor, 
inflamed by base passions, enraged by confinement, the 
abandoned creatures beat against their bars, joining in a 
foul chorus of obscenity and profanity and coarse abuse 
of their captors, at which the most accomplished of their 
masculine competitors became abashed, conceding the 
defeat of their own ineffectual efforts at rivalry. 

Gazing appalled upon this scene of horrible revelry, 
Lawrence Hale became aware of a movement at his side, 
and looking in the direction from whence he had entered, 
saw a long bench upon which were ranged half a dozen 
children of tender years, gazing upon the repulsive sight 
with varying emotions of curiosity, amazement and fear. 
Among them was one little girl some four years old, at- 
tired in dainty garments whose virgin purity had been 
soiled by contact with the mire of the street — a mother's 
darling, in search of whom anxious hearts were even then 
scouring the city, and whose innocent eyes opened wide 
with piteous horror at the fearful spectacle before her. As 
the child encountered Hale's sympathetic gaze she 
sprang from her hard seat, and running to the prisoner's 
side, hid her face upon his knee and sobbed out her grief 
and terror. Her new-found friend sheltered the silken 
head with a caressing movement of his manacled arms. 

"In the Lord's name, what does this mean?" de- 
manded Hale of the trusty, who presented himself, keys 
in hand, ready to show the prisoner to his quarters. 

" You're to come to Number i, and don't be all 
night about it, neither." 

" What are these children doing here? " Hale's voice 
was stern, but the child who clung to him smiled up into 
his face with loving confidence. 

" That's right! Go prying into affairs that are none of 
your concern, will you? That's the way with you high- 
toned thieves. 'Taint enough that you should make a big 
haul and get a nice place to yourself, instead of being 
stowed away with the poor devils over there " — pointing 
to the cages occupied by the common drunks, misde- 
meanors and petty larcenists. 

" The little beggars were picked up on the streets since 
one o'clock," vouchsafed the Captain, anxious to con- 
clude the interview, and rid himself of a troublesome cus- 

"And you put them here ! " 

One would have thought, to see the prisoner, that their 
relations were reversed, and the criminal had become the 
accuser, the officer one who had sinned against the law. 

"Certainly. It's a mere temporary arrangement. Per- 
haps you have more sumptuous quarters to offer, Mr. 

A loud chorus of laughter greeted this brilliant sally on 
the part of the Captain. The prisoner bit his lip and 
was silent for a moment. Then he spoke more gently. 

" Will you allow this little girl to share my quarters 
until she is called for? Her parents will not be long in 
coming. Or perhaps you will be kind enough to send to 
their address? I will give you the number." 

" Stuff! Of all the preposterous demands ! " 

The Captain gently loosened the little hands that 
clung to their protector, and as Hale was urged away he 
was followed by an imploring childish cry and the wistful 
prayer of a pair of tearful eyes. 

For the first time his sin came home to him in its full 
force and significance. In his mad stupidity, his rash 
folly, his insensate greed for wealth and position, he had 
not alone abdicated all claim to the trust and esteem of 
his fellow-men, and incurred the heavy penalty of the law. 
He had forfeited the right to shield a little child from 

He dropped upon the low pallet in the cell to which 
the trusty had conducted him, taking no inventory ot its 
dreary interior — the thinly whitewashed walls, the single 
stool, the narrow aperture high in the door, through which 
faint rays of light struggled in from the dim passage-way 
outside. Burying his face in his hands, he reviewed the 
circumstances of his crime. He had been permitted to 
read the San Francisco papers as the vessel plowed 
her way homeward over the calm waters of the Pacific, 
and his heart smote him as he recalled the stanch defense 
his friends had made, their unfaltering advocacy of his in- 
nocence, in the face of his suspicious disappearance. He 
had pictured them gathering about him on his return, and 
shrank with keenest pain from the confession he must 
make, the lie he must give their confidence and trust. 
But now, as in the solitude of his cell he awaited their 
coming, he thought that it would be sweet to clasp a 
friendly hand and meet a pitying eye, even though their 
regard was altered into the compassion honest men ex- 
hibit toward one who has been false to his standard. 

As time wore on and no one came save occasional 
journalists, who fulfilled the predictions of the detective, 
and punctually presented themselves to gain all possible 
information, the prisoner arrived at a dim realization of 
the truth, that with the first conviqtion of his guilt his 
friends had fallen away. He had fancied, too, that she 
might come, the blue-eyed, winsome girl, who had lured 
him into temptation with her careless words. In imagin- 
ation he saw her again, and caught the flash of her eyes 
as she uttered the words that had proved his doom. They 
had been discussing the wealth ot certain local magnates, 
and the uncertain moral foundations upon which their 
hoards of gold had been accumulated. 

"But they are rich," she had said, "and riches are 
more substantial than principles. The only sin in steal- 
ing is in being found out." 

Ay ; he had committed the unpardonable sin. Not 
in making too free with his neighbor's money. She 
recognized no crime in such a deed. But he had been 
found out. The money he had taken with a wild hope 
that by brilliant speculation he could achieve a fortune 
that would enable him to offer her his hand and the heart 
that was already in her keeping, had proved his ruin. The 
bottom had dropped out of the market. That was all. 
The situation had not even the redeeming grace of 
novelty, for the bottom was forever dropping out of the 
stock market, and plunging into a pit of irretrievable dis- 
grace a flock of over-confident speculators. 

Hour after hour passed by, and his solitude remained 
undisturbed. His faith in human friendship waned, but he 
looked forward with ever increasing confidence to the 
coming of one upon whose constancy he knew he could 
rely, though all the world beside proved false. As the 
clock in the tower of St. Mary's Cathedral chimed the 
hour of midnight, he heard the rustle of a woman's gar- 
ments in the dark passage-way, and the sound of a qua- 
vering voice addressing the turnkey, and he knew that 
She had come. Lifting his eyes to the narrow grating, he 
saw, framed in massesof soft hair that had become thickly 
threaded with silver during the past six weeks — divine love 
and compassion and forgiveness in her eyes— his mother's 
face. Another moment and the key grated in the lock, 
and the door was thrown open. 


She put her arms about him, and gently drew his head 
down to her bosom, stroking his hair with trembling 
hands, her tears raining upon his head, calling him her 
poor, dear, unhappy boy, while he confessed his penitence 
and remorse upon the breast that had cradled him in in- 

He passed a miserable and restless night, tossing upon 
his hard bed, beneath vermin-infested blankets, at times 
sinking into a state of semi-consciousness that was more 
lethargy than slumber, to hear blood-curdling yells from 
remote portions of the building, mingled with the curses 
of officers, who endeavored to stem with a counter cur- 
rent of profanity the mad flights of brains diseased by 
alcohol or vice. The groans of a wounded patient in the 
Receiving Hospital echoed like a dull refrain of misery 
throughout the night. In the underground dungeon of 
which his cell formed a constituent part, no straggling 
ray of sunlight was ever admitted to betray the line of de- 
markation between day and night; and it was only by the 
renewal of the rumble on the streets above that he knew 
when morning approached, and the commencement of the 
day's traffic was at hand. 

As he lay stretched upon his bunk, trying to recom i 
himself to his unaccustomed surroundings, the do< 
opened, and a man appeared, bearing a tin dish fillet* 
with an unsavory compound of meat and potatoes, flanked 
by a chunk of coarse bread and a tin cup of muddy-look- 
ing coffee. 

When the fellow closed the door behind him, Hale 
sat up and viewed the food with undisguised loathing. 
He said to himself that if his lite depended upon it, he 
could never bring himself to taste the stuff. 

The next minute he took himself to task for his squeam- 
ishness. Thousands of honest, hard-working men in San 
Francisco, and all over the world as well — mechanics at 
the bench, farmers behind the plow, gallant soldiers in 
the field ot duty- would consider themselves blest if they 
were provided with fare half as wholesome and substan- 
tial. And who was he, that his epicurean tastes should 
revolt against such frugal fare? No industrious laborer, 
putting to noble use the strength and muscle with which 
the Creator had endowed him ; no soldier, risking his 
life in his country's cause. A common thief, for- 
sooth; a felon awaiting sentence; a man who had laid 
hands upon property not his own, and was suffering the 
logical consequences of a guilty deed. A month later 
would in all probability see him an inmate of San Quen- 
tin, condemned to years of penal servitude — a conscious 
living machine, his individuality forgotten, doing the bid- 
ding of a harsh master. It wou'd be prudent to overcome 
in the outset any delicacy regarding the manner and ser- 
vice of the food necessary for his daily sustenance, and 
he addressed himself resolutely to the task. 

His repugnance refused to be conquered. With the 
basin on his knees, he was laboriously essaying to swal- 
low the greasy lumps that constituted the stew, when an 
early visitor was admitted, and Hale suspended his meal 
to give vent to an ejaculation of surprise. 

The newcomer was a man about thirty years of age, 
tall and jaunty, attired in the most exquisite taste, with a 
face whose prototype is daily encountered in any club- 
room where young society men congregate. Intelligent, 
courteous, dignified, his prevailing air of well-bred indif- 
ference was for the moment disturbed as he beheld the 
sorry plight of his friend. 

" What ! Dartmoor? " 

"Yes, Hale." 

Nothing could have presented more forcibly to Hale 
the contrast between the life he had led and the new era 
upon which he had entered, than the advent of this punc- 
tilious man of the world. The two had sustained a 
friendly intimacy for years, and the younger man had en- 
joyed the freedom of the elder's luxurious bachelor apart- 
ments, while extending to him in turn the hospitality of 
his own home. Together they had built many a stately 
castle in Spain, and watched the airy edifices topple over 
into space, moved only by a secret determination to some 
day build them upon sure foundations. And yet this in- 
timacy had been a superficial, casual tie, based only upon 
a whimsical preference for each other's society, and never 
ennobled by any congenial interest or unselfish regard 
that would cause either to turn instinctively to the other 
in time of need. Indeed, Hale reflected in quick self- 
reproach that Dartmoor was one of the last men he should 
have called upon for help or sympathy. Yet he had pre- 
sented himself unbidden in that noisome spot, and was 
regarding the prisoner with pitiful eyes that took in evt iy 
detail of his miserable surroundings, leaning up against 
the wall as if faint and sickened at the revelation, grasp- 
ing the prisoner's hands with the involuntary gesture of 
one who would fain lift his friend from the slough of 
wretchedness into which his feet had strayed. 

Dartmoor's agitation was so frank and unaffacted that 
Hale was deeply moved, and he was not surprised when, 
instead of the usual formula of condolence or stiff-necked 
reproof tendered by friends on such occasions, there came 
instead a sorrowful exclamation : 

"Oh, Hale! The pity of it ! " 

The guilty man had no response ready. His mind 
roved back to the day when he first took his position in 
the bank, jubilant in the assurance of a handsome salary, 
and looking forward to a prosperous and upright career. 
How bright the world had seemed then, and how easy he 
had thought it would be to win advancement through in- 
dustrious application and faithful adherence to the old- 
fashioned principles of truth and honor. Hope, ambi- 
tion, happiness, all sacrificed by one false step. 

" I don't know what made me, Dartmoor*'' he replied, 
shakily. " Six years ago I'd have sworn I would cut my 
throat first, but the devil himself got hold of me. I let 
go of honor, principle, reason, all at once. When I 
realized it, it was too late." 

Dartmoor answered this confession with a sympathetic 
pressure of the hand. 

" What did you do with the money, Hale? " he asked, 
after a short pause. 

" Stocks." 

"Do you suppose it can be traced? Who was jour 
broker? Were the transactions confidential? " 

" Confidential as such things usually are," replied the 
prisoner, responding first to his friend's last query. Ray- 
mond Brothers were the firm. I don't suppose they 
would volunteer any information." 

" Then it will be easy enough to cover up the thing," 



said Dartmoor, confidently. " Who have you engaged 
for counsel? " 

"I have no use for counsel. I shall offer no defense." 

" No defense ! " Dartmoor stared as if he thought the 
young man had gone mad. " No defense ! What are you 
thinking of, Lawrence? How do you expect to get off? " 

"I don't expect to get off. I stole the money, and I 
mean to face the music. I haven't the slightest ambition 
in the world to ape Floyd or Riley, or the rest of those 
fellows— employing a set of sharp attorneys and hired wit- 
nesses ; escaping justice by a shrewd advantage of crotch- 
ets of the law. Besides, Dartmoor, what is to be gained? " 

"What is to be gained?" echoed the other, in open 
amazement. " Liberty, happiness, a spotless name— 
everything worth having. As I understand it, you haven't 
said a word yet that really criminates you. There isn't 
an atom of proof against you that couldn't be overturned. 
There are a dozen ways in which the money might have 
been abstracted without involving anybody in the bank's 
employ. Say you found out the deficiency and feared it 
might be charged upon you, so made off, eh? Think it 
over, Hale. Don't be hasty." 

"Think it over," returned the prisoner, slowly. "I 
have been thinking it over for the last six weeks; and I 
tell you I had a thousand times rather be working out the 
honest penalty of my crime, branded as a thief for all the 
rest of my days, than to tread the streets of San Francisco 
a free man, borne down with an unseen burden of per- 
jury and sin, knowing myself to be a fraud upon the com- 
munity, offering an insult to my fellows every time I touch 
the hand of an honest man, conscious that I am lower 
and viler than the meanest vagabond in the crowd ! I 
appreciate your kindly motives, Dartmoor, but I don't 
think I was ever cut out for a hypocrite. I couldn't do 
the whited sepulchre business." 

Glancing up at his visitor as he concluded, the criminal 
wondered what had come over Dartmoor. The latter 
stood silent and motionless, his features working under 
the influence of some strong emotion, but his eyes glow- 
ing with a look of high resolve so foreign to his ac- 
customed expression that Hale marveled and was dumb, 
awaiting in breathless expectation the moment when his 
agitation should betranslated into words. 

That moment never came. With a sudden impatient 
gesture Dartmoor seemed to rid himself of an unwel- 
come thought, and he was the man of the world again, 
shrewd, keen-eyed, practical, respecting conventionalities, 
disdainful of false sentiment. 

" Hale, you are doing yourself an injustice. It's plain 
to me you never meant to steal the money. Granted that 
you committed an error; circumstances made you a 

He drew out his watch, a handsome gold time-piece, 
and consulted it carelessly, then frankly extended his 

"It is evident, old fellow, that you want to make a 
martyr of yourself, and I for one shall do my best to pre- 
vent it. You'll be brought up to plead in the Police 
Court to-day at ten o'clock ; consider well what you say. 
I'll bring ShaveV, the attorney, round with me— a man 
sharp as a steel trap; the very one to get you out of this 

Hale listened to his friend's sophistry with grave atten- 
tion, but as they parted he met Dartmoor's searching 
look with a look of inflexible resolution. 

( To be continued.) 



Humanity, in its joys and sorrows, is an endless para- 
dox. The solemn and the ludicrous meet in the most 
incongruous juxtaposition. Tears are not always the 
signs of woe, nor laughter of pleasure. 

There are few among the higher dignitaries of the Ma- 
sonic fraternity, including the Knights Templar and 
Scottish Rite organizations, who were not familiar with 
the commanding and resolute temperament of the late 
Captain Richard S. Corning. This little incident of his 
last hours will possess for them a melancholy interest, 
both as illustrating the foregoing truism and that ruling 
passion not only strong in death, but strong enough, 
seemingly, to fix the hour of its dread approach. A 
perfect gentleman, and with the kindest heart in 
the world, the old sea captain was, from long habit, 
as thorough-paced an autocrat in his small world 
on shore as afloat. His wife and two of the breth- 
ren of his order stood around his bed at midnight, ex- 
pecting his death at any moment. Looking about him 
with his usual quick, penetrating glance, he saw the mean- 
ing of this unwonted gathering. The very idea of any one 
laying out a programme for him in any emergency was 
most repugnant to the indomitable spirit that still inspired 
the frail and feeble frame. Turning to his wife, he de- 
manded, in his habitual, quick, incisive tones, "Wife, 
what is Carlton here for? He thinks I am going to die to- 
night. I'm not. I shall die to-morrow ! " And he did. 
The old captain was still on deck, and wasn't going to 
take sailing orders from any one except the owners. 

It is safe to say that the sad watchers received with a mo- 
mentary smile this characteristic adjustment of the dread 
question ; nor did the smile detract aught from the sorrow 
of parting with the truest and noblest of friends and 

The Chicago Neivs Letter has kindly come to my assist- 
ance in answering the question of a correspondent in re- 
gard to the authorship of a little gem of poesy, " The 
Snabwang," and marked by a more than ordinary poetic 
license in the matter of language. The News Letter 
snatches this jewel from Robert Browning to place it on 
the brow of " Mr. Joseph Gulick, poet in ordinary and 
hereditary bard to Colonel J. H. Haverly," and asserts 
that " they were written for the Haverly Herald, in com- 
memoration of the first appearance of the ten-stringed 
banjo octet." 

This seems very probable; but on so momentous a 
question it is well to go slow. I, therefore, hereby chal- 
lenge my valued correspondent to the proof. If he will 
read Gulick's works, I will carefully peruse those of the 
greater, but no less incomprehensible, bard. This will 
insure "going slow" on my part — very slow. Forfeit 
money to go to the one who holds out longest. If I may 
judge Gulick's verse by the News Letter's sample, I am 
afraid this question is still far from being settled. 

The following "elegant extract" is from a late morn- 
ing paper: "The poetical knee-breeched James Russell 
Lowell has been succeeded by a businesslike lawyer in 
London. The President is fond of practical men. He 
has no patience with poets." This delicate and scathing 
sarcasm should cause every poet in the land to hide his 
good-for-nothing head. Let Longfellow and Bryant, Poe 
and Pinkney, turn over in their graves, and try to forget 
the ignominious charge engraved on their tell-tale monu- 
ments. Let Oliver Wendell Holmes put aside his pen 
and inkstand for the pestle and the gallipot, abjure poetry, 
become practical, and restore the presidential " patience " 
by attending strictly to his own. 

It is hardly fair to call the President to account for 
words that doubtless originated in the cultured mind of 
their reporter. But I cannot forbear mentioning the 
somewhat relevant and 'certainly indisputable fact that 
where five hundred millions of people know the name of 
Homer, not one will be able to mention with any degree 
of certainty the name of a single " practical " business man 
of Smyrna, Colophon, Chios, Argos, Athens, Rhodes, or 
S.ilamis, the seven cities that claim the honor of having 
produced this vagrant of a poet — nor even the name of 
one of the " presidents " of the regions round about, if 
they had any. If Grover allows many such speeches to 
be made in his behalf, he may find, in case of renewed 
aspirations, that the pen, " when it moveth itself aright," 
is mightier than the bosses. 

"Where are we drifting?" asks an excited contributor. 
A careful perusal of the amplification of this query, and 
a consequent insight into its real meaning and intent, 
convinces me that the author was adrift, without com- 
pass or rudder, on the broad, dark sea of English gram- 
mar, and in that special locality where lie the troublous 
shoals and quicksands that separate the narrow channels 
of Where, Whither, and Whence. 

If we have an international copyright law between the 
United States and Central America, it should certainly be 
put in force against the rash Costa Rican who shot the 
martial apostle of centralization. In thus removing 
Barrios by fire he was guilty of a palpable infringement 
on the copyright of E. P. Roe, by issuing a new and un- 
authorized version of Barriers Burned Away. 

In answer to that wild public craving to know even the 
minutest detail of the lives and habits of the great, the 
papers have been recently giving widespread publicity to 
the absorbing fact that John L. Sullivan entertains a 
"superstitious prejudice against white specks on his 
finger-nails." This little point of finical personal nicety 
is not so surprising to me, since it is one that I have 
observed to prevail almost universally among gentlemen 
of Mr. Sullivan's profession and nationality. The prev- 
alence of a preference for black as an ornamental 
bordering for finger-nails forms one of the many strong, 
distinctive (" no pun intended ") marks of the genus. But 
when the paper goes on to state that " he even digs them 
out carefully with a pen-knife, no matter how much it 
may pain him," the statement certainly clashes with my 
previous opinions. I had always supposed that the ap- 
proach of a pen-knife to the finger-nails was regarded 
with an even stronger superstitious aversion than an ac- 
cidental touch of white could arouse. This information 
upsets my theory that it is the intentional purity that is so 
obnoxious to this branch of our moneyed aristocracy. If 
I may offer a word of advice to Mr. Sullivan, I would bid 
him forbear exhausting his mental powers with so much 
anxious attention to his nails, but to avoid nail-brushes 
and pen-knives, and " let nature take her course." 

I confess that after writing the foregoing paragraph my 
knees smote together (if knees are improper, this expres- 

sion must be taken in a Pickwickian sense) with fear, 
when I recalled the threat of the popular hero against 
those who presume to speak disrespectfully of him. I 
would rather not, at present, be knocked " clean off the 
face of the globe," and as I am not in training just now, I 
think Mr. Sullivan could remove me from the counte- 
nance referred to. My first idea of immunity was based 
on the reflection that I am a woman. But, alas ! Mrs. 
S. could tell us that there's no haughty pride about her 
John. He'd just as soon strike a woman as anybody. 
" It's all fish that comes to his net," or all day with what 
comes to his fist. I shall take my summer vacation in the 
East when he comes to this coast, and whichever route he 
may select, I shall go by the other— just to avoid the 

According to a rough calculation, says an eastern 
journal, " there were one hundred and eighty-five thou- 
sand chances in lotteries taken last month in the little 
state of Connecticut." Does this estimate include the 
number of women who got married during that time? 

In these profane latter days, when wit is shooting its 
polished shafts and science trains its heavy artillery against 
the ecclesiastical cohorts, it is pleasant to score one now 
and then for the church. One of the most able and gifted 
preachers, in a church generally more noted for the 
scholarship and refined culture of its clergy than for ora- 
torical eloquence, was (and is, for that matter) the Rev. 
William H. Hill, now Rector of St. Athanasius's Church, 
Los Angeles. He had at one time occupied an important 
position on a leading political paper, as its reporter in the 
state Legislature at Albany, New York. After having 
taken orders, he was met by one of the " members " whom 
he had known in his reportorial days, and the latter at- 
tempted to have a little fun at the expense of his old ac- 
quaintance's change of vocation. 

" Why is it, Mr. Hill, that if you enter any church you 
will find about ten women to every man?" This was, of 
course, intended for a withering sarcasm on the mental 
status of the church. 

"Well," was the quick response, "when you can tell 
me why, if you visit Auburn or Sing Sing state prison, 
you find about five hundred men to every one woman, 
I'll agree to answer your question satisfactorily." 

So far as heard from, a reply to the legislative question 
is yet uncalled for. 

An excited gentleman from that quarter wherein our 
Italian adopted citizens have established their lares and 
penates (freely translated, their lairs and peanuts), pre- 
sented himself yesterday at the Receiving Hospital with 
twenty gory gashes, more or less, on his head. As well 
as the contused and dazed state of his cranial extremity 
would permit, he explained to Dr. D ennis that his wife 
was the divinity that had shaped that end into a mass of 
bumps and angles, and that she had rough-hewn it with 
an empty bottle, the contents of which had inspired her 
cunning hand. The Doctor expresses great admiration 
for her pugilistic powers, though she evidently misunder- 
stood the duties of a bottle-holder, construing them to 
imply holding the contents, and applying the bottle to 
purposes pertaining legitimately to the more orthodox 
rolling-pin. The disabled signor will kill at sight the 
" Italian son of a gun " who rendered sweet home into 
duke domum, and sincerely hopes that the refrain of that 
idiotic song is true. 

The time has come when the celebrated dictum of 
Horace Greeley, "Go west," demands a specific and 
definite limitation. The lack of this exactness came near 
losing the musically rabid Chicagoans the last evening's 
delight of the great Peck-Mapleson operatic festival. 
The terms of Mine. Fursch-Madi's -contract with the 
martial Mapleson called for his payment of her hotel 
bills in case she should be called upon to " go west." 
The Colonel probably located the West somewhere out 
beyond the Farallones; but Madame considered Chicago 
the utmost eastern limit of the West, and her ultimatum 
at the very last moment was, " Pay, or no play." The 
bravest man dreads a losing fight, and the unhappy com- 
mander was bound to lose either the Madi's board-bill or 
Chicago's confidence. Thackeray makes the patriotic 
Jeames Yellowplush say of the Great Duke, " He was 
called the hero of a hundred fights; and even 7 fight he fit 
he won." But Wellington didn't fight with prime donne. 
If he had, Jeames might have changed his enthusiastic 
climax to, " and every fight he fit he run." There may, 
after all, be something in Charley Reed's suggestion of a 
tie of consanguinity between Fursch-Madi and " El," 
and it may run in the blood to worst the English. Any- 
way, Mapleson struck his colors, and the Chicagoans had 
Lohengrin, with the great dramatic soprano as " Elsa." 
But it is time that the boundless West were bounded, or 
that operatic contracts are less loosely drawn. 

The dailies are out with accounts of the funeral of 
Bourdon at the State University. Either there is a mis- 
take in the published accounts, or the public has been 
laboring under a grave misapprehension. From the 
scholastic attainments of our university graduates, there 
is a general impression that they bury their text-books be- 
fore instead of after mastering them. 



A woman understands only what she feels, whereas a man may 
grow to be able to look at things as they arc in themselves, re- 
maining the while indifferent to tneir relations tohimself. Hence 
women arc superior to men in those virtues in which the essential 
element is right leeling. They believe more, hope more, and love 
more than men. — BisJiop /. L. Spalding, in North American 
Review for May. 

One of the chief elements in all that we recogni/c as 
beautiful is the expression of energy. In the inanimate 
world it is some external force acting upon the object that 
we admire ; in the animate creation it is the vital energy 
of the individual himself. When we consider mankind 
standing at the head of creation, we see this truth more 
fully exemplified. The physical beauty of the face and 
figure bespeaks the energy of increasing civilization. The 
high brow and firm mouth describe the force of thought 
and purpose ; on the other hand, the faded and haggard 
countenance shows a deficiency of life and a poverty of 
energy. Many of the fancied ills of womankind may be 
traced to a lack of both moral and physical energy. 
Woman as well as man has an important place in the 
creation, and to her is given the delicate scepter of moral 
standards. Men must always lead physically, but women 
must and do lead morally. In this busy, cosmopolitan 
city the social lines are not so closely drawn as in older 
communities, but they are none the less marked for all 
that. There are always two opposing elements in the 
feminine fashionable world, which marshal their forces 
and compete sharply for matrimonial prizes in the mascu- 
line market. The one represents women of the highest 
class, whose physical and mental endowments fit them 
for the cares and responsibilities of wife and motherhood, 
while the other comprises ambitious women who tuck 
their glaring faults under the wings of those whose 
position is unquestioned, and aim to please by affecting 
a worth which they do not possess. If one looks at the 
home life of our well-known society women, it will be 
found they are more lovely in the seclusion of their fami- 
lies than at the head of some brilliant society exploit. 
These women are helpmeets to their husbands in every 
sense of the word, and are noble mothers. Their daugh- 
ters have the example of their mothers as a guide, and 
in almost every case will follow that example in building 
their own homes. They have been taught the responsi- 
bilities and duties of their positions, if not in theory, at 
least in practice, by their mothers. Such women are, as 
a rule, very plain in person and dress, and at first one is 
at a loss to know how they have secured such a position. 
Theirs is a beauty of mind and morals. The other fac- 
tion, the parasites, do not possess the worth of the real 
leaders, but they have physical charms which they know 
how to use. They have better " style " as far as dress 
goes, than their rivals, but they lack the art of retaining 
admiration. They appear best under gaslight. They are 
fully conscious of their defects, and aim to possess all the 
privileges accorded women, without assuming the duties. 
They step into the best places with the air of those to the 
manor born, and are not overscrupulous as to the means 
by which they attain their object. It is this class that 
have caused men to speak sneeringly and lightly of all 

There is but one remedy for this, and that is greater 
mental activity and moral energy. While I am per- 
suaded that the final results of the woman's rights doc- 
trine will be good, I cannot deny that the first fruits have 
been bad. It has produced a general feeling of discon- 
tent among women, which has caused them to look upon 
their lot as degraded, and made them try to throw off the 
galling chains which held them. It is commendable in 
any class of people to try and improve their condition, 
but women so far have not looked at the cause of their 
misfortunes. Fault-finding, like charity, should begin at 
home. Those woman who ha*e grievances, and imagine 
they are denied so many privileges, should be obliged to 
earn their living as men do, and they would soon be cured 
of their illusion. The greatest blessing Christianity has 
bestowed upon the world is the sanctity of the marriage 
relation, and through it woman's protection from the 
grinding cares of the business world. There is no ques- 
tion so awful and so terrible as the money problem. It is 
true that wife and motherhood bring many cares, but they 
also have their blessings. Before marriage a girl's life is 
nondescript. She is of little practical use in the world ; 
she has scarcely any individuality. As a rule, married 
women say to their young girl friends, "Oh, don't ever 
marry! I wish I never had. I was much happier when 
I was single, like you." Girlhood is happy in the same 
sense that childhood is; but who would desire to remain 
a child always. Shut out from the knowledge and broad 
sympathies of the outside world, womanhood reaches its 
highest plane in the marriage relation, no matter what its 
cares. What a blessing that women are not expected to 
do what men do! It is commendable in women to take 
advantage of the educational privileges now afforded them, 
and to try to attain the highest standards as women ; but 
they should remember that a woman is the greatest suc- 
cess as a woman. Masculine women are a monstrosity. 
It is plain that there is a retrograde movement in woman's 
rights which finds support among the best educated 
women in the land. They are quite willing to take a 
second place in the world's affairs, and fully recognize 
the fact that woman's position is as high as she is capable 

of filling. I do not mean that women are not capable of 
learning anything a man can ; but business is business, and 
as soon as a woman takes on a business air she degenerates 
and is less womanly and attractive than the one who stays 
at home and thinks and acts from a woman's standpoint. 
A woman's strength is her weakness; by this I do not 
mean that "strong weakness" Mrs. A. J. Dunniway, the 
woman's rights lecturer, talks about. While a woman 
must take a second place, that place need not be servile, 
nor is it necessary to submit to all that may be heaped 
upon her. The mastery of self, and that acute insight 
into human nature which belongs to a woman intuitively, 
will, if applied to every-day life, do more lo alleviate her 
position than all the rights of the ballot will ever give. 

Whatever may be women's position, men arc not en- 
tirely to blame for it. If women are ignorant, and full 
of wrong conceptions, it is their own fault. I low many 
women there are who have only the most chaotic notions 
and ideas of life, and who know almost nothing of the 
outside world. If they read at all, it is confined to novels 
of the emotional kind, and the literary gruel in the form 
of " Chit-chat for the Ladies " which most of the leading 
papers furnish. The absolute trash which passes current 
"for the ladies "is enough to starve the intellect, and 
hopeful results cannot be expected from such a source. 
Beauty of mind is the outcome of mental activity, and as 
woman's greatest difficulty is a mental one, mental and 
moral activity will in a great measure remedy it. Woman's 
physical field is necessarily limited, but in the intellectual 
she may rival man, and become his worthy peer in many 
lines. In intellectual life there is no sex. I have often 
wished it were fashionable for American women to take 
physical exercise, as do our English cousins, but it would 
fill my highest ideal if we could have the French salon of 
the last decade, where intellectual women held court 
surrounded by the dilletante of imperial France, with its 
coterie of foreign celebrities. What an improvement it 
would be over the eternal dancing which must be done 
nowadays. There is no country in the world where 
women are made to take a second position to girls except 
the United States. That perhaps accounts for the low 
intellectual level fashionable society has among us. Men 
of good sense are disgusted with the small talk which 
masquerades as conversation at a swell affair, and as soon 
as they are married they refuse to tolerate such nonsense 
longer. Mere physical beauty soon fades, but there are 
years in which to develop intellectual beauty. 

What is it that elicits our admiration of the profound 
scholar, or the great inventor, or the captivating orator, or 
the wise statesman? It is the mental energy and power 
of purpose that possess them and urge them forward in 
their several directions. It is not a physical attraction, 
certainly not the style of dress. Men not only have great 
capacities or talents — these alone would not make them 
great — but they also have within them' an intellectual 
vigor that never sleeps and a soirit that never flags, by 
means of which every capacity is unfolded, and every 
power developed into higher and higher forms, with fuller 
and fuller results. No gifts or circumstances can ever 
make up for the lack of mental energy, enthusiasm and 
will. We cannot take delight in a mind that lies dor- 
mant and inert, for, whatever may be its latent powers, 
it will always remain latent, and therefore valueless. 

due to the looseness of her dresses. Her individual 
could not of course be copied by every one, but m, 
its points might, and with advantage, too. Miss 1 1 
taste for color was as pronounced as that for form and 
shape. She avoided always the crudity of elemental 
shades. On her last Sunday in New York, when she re- 
ceived a half dozen or so of the large number of people 
w ho called at the Victoria in the hope of being permitted 
to say good-bye to her, she looked a real picture. Her 
gown was a long, half loose demi-train affair of bronze- 
green satin, trimmed about the throat and arm-holes, 
which were narrow and pointed, extending straight from 
the shoulder to just below the hips, with marabou feath- 
ers, while the sleeves were of a deep, dull red ottoman 
silk. There was something stately in its oddness, as dif- 
ferent as possible from the orientalism of Helen Mod- 
jeska's Japanese tea gowns and the modernism of Lily 
Langtry's perfect fits. 

John Levy & Company, the jewelers on Sutter street, 
have an elegant assortment of goods. They keep a fine 
line of diamonds and other precious stones, and also 
manufacture all kinds of jewelry and silverware. One of 
the daintiest things in the toilet line is a chatelaine and 
scent-bottle combined, which design was originated by 
them. The little bottle is so small that it would pass 
readily for a fob, and has a pin with which to fasten 
it securely to the dress. I was shown an odd design in 
bracelets which represents gold nuggets hammered out in 
rough, uneven shapes, and joined together with links. 
Bangle bracelets are not shown in the new goods, and 
the bar pin must share its prestige with the new-fashioned 
medallion-shaped cameo, set with pearls and diamonds. 
This house has also a fine assortment of clocks, the most 
notable of which is of beautiful colored marble, made in 
the shape of the Pantheon at Rome, with relief figures in 
brass, bronze and copper. 

The indications of the mode are that we will have 
a return of the styles of 1785 before the expiration of 1885. 
Coiffures grow higher from day to day, hence the 
enormous, tall-crowned, capacious hats or small bonnets 
perched like a Polish cap on the top of the head. The 
return of the real Pompadour and Marie Antoinette 
styles of dressing the hair is only a question of time — a 
few months or a year at most. Even wigs — yes, white 
wigs, as well as those of different colors — are used in 
excess in Paris. The latest novelties are wigs and coif- 
fures arranged all on the top of the head, but with grace- 
ful short curls falling on the nape of the neck, and 
fringed bangs and statue curls on the forehead and front 
of the head. With this style of coiffure naturally come 
cosmetics, the use of beautifying masks, black patches 
on the face, and every toilet art practiced during the 
most artificial period of France. High coils, after the 
form of a figure eight, fastened with tortoise-shell or 
jeweled pins, with curls or frizzes falling over the neck, 
are still the most popular arrangement. A Pompadour 
front susceptible of instantaneous adjustment, consisting 
of a scries of dainty waves supplemented by a fluffy fringe 
of hair drawn upward at the parting, is the very latest 
elimination of art. The fashion of wearing curls hanging 
from beneath the knot of hair at the back of the head, 
looking as much as possible as if they were the ends of 
the coil, is very pretty, but somebody should whisper a 
word of caution to certain ladies no longer young, who 
have adopted it, and are wearing curls which very evi- 
dently date back to the Johnson administration, and 
look as if they might even have war memories. 

The Wakefield Rattan Company on Market street have 
always on hand a fine assortment of goods in their line. 
The chairs are especially noticeable, and those stained 
in imitation of mahogany leave nothing to be desired in 
the way of fashion. There are quaint waste-baskets and 
dainty brackets, which are highly ornamental as well as 
useful. The rattan used by the company is imported 
from Singapore, whence it is sent to Boston and cut up 
for manufacturing purposes. The Wakefield Company 
manufacture a large portion of their goods, but they also 
keep a full line of the best Eastern goods in stock. Sew- 
ing-chairs and work-baskets arc especially dear to the 
feminine heart, and it is a pleasure to jiossess them of 

Very odd, as well as chic, are some of the designs 
found upon those artistic gauze fans called "flirtation 
fans," brought out this season. Some have a family of 
mice at gymnastics all over the fan, some of them cun- 
ningly painted to appear as if they were plunging through 
a hole they had just nibbled in the fan; again there are a 
lot of spiders running a race from their own web to se- 
cure the shelter of a friendly mushroom as an escape from 
the rain that is pelting in slant lines across the fan land- 
scape; and still another with a brood of sparrows, some 
walking, while others are flying under Chinese parasols. 

Miss Ellen Terry's visit to this country has had an effect 
upon taste in dressing. One may marvel at the smooth- 
ness with which Mrs. Langtry's dresses were molded to 
her, but any one with good taste could not fail to admire 
the perfect grace of carriage and movement which was 
I one of Miss Terry's charms, and which was largely 

The male Parisian now adorns himself with a very 
narrow scarlet cravat, and the Bazar's correspondent as- 
serts that it makes him look as if he had been guillotined. 

The latest place for concealing cigars is in a cane, which 
is made of bamboo covered 'with alligator skin, and has 
a silver top to be screwed down upon the cigars. The 
only good thing about it is that cigars hidden in it do not 
scent the coat disagreeably. 

A curiosity table is the rage among London do-noth- 
ings just now. It is painted black and glazed, and dec- 
orated with cards, photographs, addressed envelopes, 
buttons, bits of patchwork — anything in short. It is 
amusing and helps to make conversation, but alack and 
alas that ever a thing like this should succeed true art and 
sincerity and the rest ! What arc the artists of London, 
the true inner brotherhood, doing while the multitude 
bows down and worships such a golden calf as this? 

Collars and gorgets of jet are to be much worn this 
summer, and, accompanied by cuffs and a jet-embroidered 
girdle, they may very well constitute the entire trimming 
of the pretty housemaid gowns which will rcap|)car, to be 
hopelessly vulgarized in the old way. 

The elongated monogram is the latest thing for deco- 
rating fans in London. Those carried by bridesmaids 
have the united monograms of bride and groom high on 
one corner, and that of the bridesmaid low in the other. 

The White House, as usual, has something new in its 
windows. This time it is tufted zephyr suiting, a new 
cotton goods which in texture is a cross between gingham 
and diamine. The tufts are bourette threads of two or 
three contrasting shades, forming tiny squares very much 
like the pave effects in the two-toned winter fabrics. It is 
a pity we cannot wear cotton here ; this season has brought 
out such pretty things one feels like buying them despite 
the cool summer winds. At any rate, they make nice 
house dresses, and I suppose we must take the goods the 
gods offer us, and not complain. F. E. W. 




In the years spent among the beautiful mountain and 
lake scenery of northeastern New York, the writer found 
one of his chief pleasures in long, aimless walks over the 
verdant mountains or along the shores of the crystal 
lakes. Sometimes, provided with a simple lunch to satis- 
fy the pangs of hunger, always keenly felt in the clear, 
mountain air, the entire summer day would be spent in 
this way. This pleasure was occasionally shared with a 
friend of congenial tastes, but more often a volume of 
Thoreau, Emerson or John Burrough was thought prefer- 
able to any personal companion. Neither gun nor rod 
was taken on these expeditions. The writer has always 
regarded with feelings of complacency his lack of skill in 
those arts which bring destruction to the gentle and help- 
less children of nature. It seems to him that the reflect- 
ive student of science might find in the development 
theory a reason for regarding lower forms of animal life 
with something of the reverence which makes all living 
organisms sacred to the Brahmin and the Buddhist, as 
embodying in multiform phases that principle of which 
. man is only the higher exponent. 

Nor was the object of these rambles the pursuit of any 
particular branch of study. Here and there the character 
of the rock formation was noted, some interesting fossil 
was found, or an unusual flower or plant was discovered ; 
but in general the obvious attributes of nature engaged 
the attention. The profit as well as the pleasure lay 
in the opportunities afforded for uninterrupted com- 
munion with our common mother; and many a precious 
thought was gathered, either from books or observation, 
during these solitary wanderings, without making the 
acquirement a task. Then, too, there was always the de- 
light in the contemplation of the many beauties of boun- 
tiful nature, while new life seemed to be imbibed with 
every draft of the pure and bracing air. 

Something of the same spirit with which he was ani- 
mated in those days, the writer has since preserved- in 
larger fields of thought and action, looking upon books 
and people with the eye, not of the critic or philosopher, 
but merely of the observer. He has been content for the 
most part to gather such mental food as came to him 
from the fields of art, literature and society, without ever 
pretending to profound knowledge or attempting any 
philosophical analysis. 

In this vein it is proposed to give here, under the name 
" The Rambler," some impressions of every-day matters, 
covering as wide a field as possible, and, without an effort 
to be either wise or witty, to make these notes of some 
interest to the readers of The San Franciscan. 

The Rambler, in his daily wanderings to and fro in 
our city, is frequently stopped by some seedy individual 
who requests the gift of money for food or lodging. The 
practice of street begging is so much more in vogue here 
than in eastern cities, that the evil, for such it undoubt- 
edly is, ought in some way to be repressed. Indiscrimi- 
nate alms-giving is, as any one who has had a wide ex- 
perience in public charity well knows, almost invariably 
both useless and harmful. It fosters a class who make 
trade of their supposed necessities, living in idleness from 
the offerings of tender-hearted people whose charity 
might in almost any case be better bestowed ; yet it seems 
hard to refuse a small pittance for food or shelter to any 
one whom there is the least reason to believe is in actual 
want. It is, of course, impossible for the individual to 
investigate the character of an applicant for charity, and 
he or she is therefore compelled to judge altogether from 
appearances, which are too frequently deceitful. 

In some cases the worthlessess is so apparent that it is 
difficult for any one to be deceived, but others have such 
an air of genuineness that it is hard to believe that assist- 
ance could be misplaced. Yet even such an appearance 
is not always to be trusted. In a great city like this, 
especially when times are hard, and work, particularly 
for those who have no specific calling, is not easy to find, 
there is always much real distress; and many who are 
themselves in comfortable circumstances would be glad 
to give time or money to relieve such, if their efforts were 
properly directed. 

In many of the principal eastern cities the problem has 
been as near as possible satisfactorily settled through the 
establishment of the associated charities, the object of 
which is to break up the practice of street begging, 
and to furnish all necessary relief. These are con- 
conducted with so thorough a system as to leave nothing 
to be desired, and the only possible drawbacks are the 
result of the imperfections always found in every human 
institution. The plan is : (first) the cooperation of all 
churches and benevolent institutions and the municipal 
officers; (second) the division of the city into districts, 
each with its separate organization and distinct manage- 
ment ; (third) a central office with a general secretary, and 
a central board consisting of delegates from the different 
dis'ricts. Each of the districts has an office open for a 
stated number of hours daily, with a paid superintendent, 
who files applications for assistance and makes -weekly 
reports to the central office. Each district has a corps 
of volunteer visitors, who visit the homes of the poor, 
investigate their condition, and recommend measures of 
.elief. Cards containing a list of all the offices are dis- 

tributed in all public places, and furnished on application. 
The central office refers all cases reported to the proper 
district office, and where the visiting corps have not 
already considered a case the superintendent investigates, 
so that every case of supposed destitution is investigated 
within twenty-four hours. 

The association does not usually aim to assist cases of 
distress from its general fund, but refers the party requir- 
ing aid to the church society or institution which can give 
the relief needed. It generally has means, however, 
to help strangers, and to supply relief in cases of 
emergency. A register is kept at the central office, where 
all the cases which have once been investigated are en- 
tered, which can be referred to by the secretary whenever 
any information is required as to applicants for aid. In 
this way fraud is rendered almost impossible. 

In connection with these associations nearly all the lead- 
ing cities of the East have established other beneficent 
charities. Such are the " country week," for children and 
invalids, and the " Friendly Inn," where every stranger is 
^iven food and shelter for a limited time, being expected 
to pay for them, when entirely destitute, by light manual 
labor of some kind. Arrangement is also made with rail- 
roads and other public carriers so that second-class tickets 
arc secured at a reduced rate, many strangers left stranded 
in the city thus being assisted to reach their friends. 

Some idea of the work done by one of the associations 
may be gathered from the fact that during the great flood 
of the Ohio in 1884, the Cincinnati associated charities, 
furnished with means by the Chamber of Commerce, fed 
upwards of 30,000 persons for three weeks, supplied suf- 
ferers with necessary clothing, bedding and household 
furniture, made necessary repairs in the homes of those 
unable to meet the expense of making their dwelling 
habitable, and in all this scarcely an instance could be 
shown of successful fraud. 

It would seem as though some such a system should 
be adopted here, where the destitute poor, both stranger 
and resident, may suffer from hunger, and even from 
cold in consequence of our chilling fogs and piercing 
winds, as well as in the more rigorous climates of the 
eastern states. By the adoption of such a plan the nui- 
sance of street begging would be at least abated, and the 
different benevolent societies now in existence would 
have their usefulness largely increased. 

General Grant has had an experience almost like one 
coming back from the dead. In approaching so close to 
the border land of the mysterious realm of death, he has 
had a chance to see all the bitterness and prejudice en- 
gendered during the long years 01 his public life fade 
away, and friends and opponents alike unite in expres- 
sions of sympathy for his suffering, and generous recogni- 
tion of his services to his country. The words of resjject 
and sympathy uttered by many who had opposed him 
throughout his whole career must be pleasant reading for 
the old hero, now that he has apparently obtained a new 
lease of life, especially as in a number of cases they are 
probably the only kindly sentiments ever expressed toward 
him from such a quarter. 

It is a part of the characteristic generosity of Americans 
that, however strong may be the condemnation of the 
public acts of a man prominent in the political life of the 
nation, or whatever aspersions may be made justly or un- 
justly against his character, when the hand of death has 
been laid upon him the voice of detraction is generally 
hushed, and the great anxiety seems to be to cover his 
faults and extol his virtues. It was so with Webster, 
Sumner and Lincoln, and so in a supreme sense with 
Garfield and Grant — the former because of his long and 
terrible suffering, which excited to the highest degree the 
sympathies of the people; and the latter because of the 
sad misfortunes which have befallen him so lately. Grant 
has returned almost from the jaws of death, and although 
he may be spared for perhaps a score of years longer, it is 
not likely that anything will occur to disturb the assur- 
ance he now feels that his name and fame are imperish- 
ably engraven on the hearts of a grateful people, with 
whom the memory of his services to his country is more 
than sufficient to counterbalance all his failings and mis- 

Poor Tennyson is already beginning to have a foretaste 
of the fate which he laments as the invariable conse- 
quence of poetical renown. Knave and clown have not 
waited for his death for the chance of holding their 
orgies at his tomb, but seem determined to dance a 
weird witch measure by the dying fires of his intellect. 
For some years past everything he has given to the world 
has been received with shouts of derision from a certain 
class of critics — a fate which, weak as much of it was, 
compared with the work produced in earlier years, it did 
not certainly always deserve. The Laureate's most ardent 
admirers will have to acknowledge that his powers seem 
to be failing; but even the greatest poets have often pro- 
duced bad verses before this, and been forgiven for it. 
When Mathew Arnold can pronounce Wordsworth the 
greatest poetic voice of the nineteenth century, in spite of 
" Peter Bell," and " Bettie Foy and her Idiot Boy," 
some allowance ought to be made for that genius who 
has molded the poetic thought of his generation, and who 
has invented the most perfect and melodious blank verse 
known to our language. In the half century or more 

which he has devoted to what is highest in his art, Tenny- 
son has added treasures to our literature which will keep 
his name green for countless ages. If we speak of him as 
Laureate, too, it must be remembered that he is the only 
poet occupying that office who has ever produced a 
creditable poem in his official capacity, and probably 
the only one who would have been capable of producing 
such a work as the " Ode on the Death of the Duke of 
Wellington," one of the finest, if not the finest, classical 
ode ever written in English. J. D. S. 


The Ocean says to the dweller oh its shores: — 
" You are neither welcome nor unwelcome. I do not 
trouble myself with the living tribes that come down to 
my waters. I have my own people, an older race than 
yours, that grow to mightier dimensions than your masto- 
dons and elephants; more numerous than all the swarms 
that fill the air or move over the thin crust of the earth. 
Who are you that build your gay palaces on my margin? 
I see your white faces as I saw the dark faces of the 
tribes that come before you, as I shall look upon the un- 
known family of mankind that will come after you. And 
what is your whole human family but a parenthesis in a 
single page of my history? The raindrops stereotyped 
themselves on my beaches before a living creature left his 
footprints there. This horseshoe-crab I fling at your feet 
is of older lineage than your Adam, unless, perhaps, you 
count your Adam as one of his descendants. What feel- 
ing have I for you? Not scorn, not hatred, not love, not 
loathing. No ! indifference, blank indifference to you and 
your affairs — that is my feeling, say rather absence of feel- 
ing, as regards you. Oh, yes, I will lap your feet, I will 
cool you in the hot summer days, I will bear you ud in 
my strong arms, I will rock you on my rolling undulations, 
like a babe in his cradle. Am I not gentle? Am I not 
kind? Am I not harmless? But hark! The wind is 
rising, and the wind and I are rough playmates! What 
do you say to my voice now? Do you see my foaming 
lips? Do you feel the rocks tremble as my great billows 
crash against them? Is not my anger terrible as I dash 
your argosy, your thunder-bearing frigate, into fragments, 
as you would crack an eggshell? No, not anger; deaf, 
blind, unheeding indifference — that is all. Out of me all 
things arose ; sooner or later, into me all things subside. 
All changes around me ; I change not. I look not at you, 
vain man, and your frail transitory concerns, save in 
momentary glimpses; I look on the white face of my dead 
mistress, whom 1 follow as the bridegroom follows the 
bier of her who has changed her nuptial raiment for the 

" Ye whose thoughts are of eternity, come dwell at my 
j side. Continents and isles grow old, and waste and dis- 
appear. The hardest rock crumbles; vegetable and ani- 
mal kingdoms come into being, wax great, decline, and 
perish, to give way to others, even as human dynasties 
and nations and races come and go. Look on me! 
' Time writes no wrinkle ' on my forehead. Listen to me ! 
All tongues are spoken on my shores, but 1 have only 
one language : the winds taught me their vowels ; the 
crags and the sands schooled me in my rough or smooth 
consonants. Few words are mine, but I have whispered 
them and sung them, and shouted them to men of all 
tribes from the time when the first wild wanderer strayed 
into my awful presence. Have you a grief that gnaws at 
your heart-strings? Come with it to my shore, as of old 
the far-darting Apollo carried his rage and anguish to the 
margin of the loud-roaring sea. There, if anywhere, you 
will forget your private and short-lived woe, for my voice 
speaks to the infinite and the eternal in your conscious- 
ness." — Oliver Wendell Holmes, in May Atlantic. 


There seems no room for doubting that the // disease 
had its origin in London. Walker speaks of it as specially 
prevalent in London in his day; and even now it is more 
common in the pure cockney dialect (the most hateful 
form of the English language in existence) than anywhere 
in England. Moreover, its prevalence in other places 
than London is greater or less according as such places 
are nearer to or further from the metropolis. We find no 
trace of it in Cornwall or Wales; very little in Cumber- 
land, Northumberland, and Yorkshire. In the midland 
counties it is less common than in the southern. It is at 
its maximum in the heart of London. In this respect it 
is like the < r -and-w malady, which, even when at its 
height (it has now nearly died out), was never so badly 
felt in the provinces as in the metropolis; though, of 
course, like all metropolitan defects, it spreads in greater 
or less degree over the whole country. 

This being the case, we are justified in assuming that 
the disease had at first that form which is characteristic 
of the faults of language found at great centers of popula- 
tion, and especially in the chief city of the nation. If 
you wish to hear French clipped and slurred you should 
go to Paris ; and German suffers like treatment in Vienna 
and Berlin. It is the same with English in London. In 
a great and busy city men shorten their words and sen- 
tences as much as possible, being assured that what they 
say will be understood, because all speak the same lan- 
guage and adopt the same convenient abbreviations. 
Thus, just as in Paris cette femme becomes c'te fme, and 
Voila ce </ue e'est becomes Via c' q' c'esl, so in London 
City Bank becomes C'ty B'ak; halfpenny is abridged first 
to ha'penny, and then to hapny or 'apny. Omnibus is 
shortened into 'bus; every one in it addresses the conduc- 
tor as 'due tor; the conductor shortens the cry of all right 
into ry, announces the threepenny fare as thripns, and so 
forth. In fact, it may be laid down as a general proposi- 
tion that, although a language becomes modified in pro- 
vincial places and in colonies, it is only in busy cities, 
and chiefly in capital cities, that a language is modified 
by clipping and slurring. — Richard A. Proctor, in May 



Wonders and Curiosities of the Railways, by William 
Sloane Kennedy, is a cleverly written book combining 
anecdotes and history in an ingenious and interesting 
manner. It contains a complete history of railroading, 
from its inception to its present gigantic proportions. 
The chapter entitled "A Mosaic of Travel," gives one a 
glimpse of what comfort the world offers a traveler in dif- 
ferent countries. The author has been especially happy 
in the selection of chapter headings, and it is evident that 
he knows how to catch the eye in print. The book is 
copiously illustrated and nicely bound. Published by 
S. C. Griggs & Company, Chicago. 

Good Housekeeping is the suggestive title of a semi- 
monthly magazine published in New York by Clark M. 
Bryan & Company. .Judging from the initial number, 
Good Housekeeping is in the right hands, and will be 
found to contain hints and suggestions in its many well 
written articles on various housekeeping themes, which 
will fill a long-felt want. Every woman that keeps 
house will welcome Good Housekeeping as a trusty friend. 

The North American Revieiv for May comes filled with 
choice reading. In the first article, " Has Christianity 
Benefited Woman? " Elizabeth Cady Stanton and Bishop 
J. L. Spalding discuss the question intelligently. The 
entire table of contents is up to the standard, and leaves 
nothing to be desired in a literary way. 

St. Nicholas for May opens with an amusing and char- 
acteristic story by Frank R. Stockton, entitled " The 
Tricycle of the Future," with illustrations. Mrs. S. M. 
B. Piatt's Irish poem, " In Primrose Time," reminds us 
that spring is here, and the "Work and Play" depart- 
ment tells us how to enjoy it. "A House of String " and 
" Driven Back to Eden," are apropos, while Lieutenant 
Schwatka, in " Children of the Cold," shows how, even 
in the land where winter is long, the boys and girls are 
not without amusements. In addition to the foregoing 
and a great deal else that is interesting, beautiful and in- 
structive, is another "Brownie" poem, a long Persian 
legend put in verse by H. H. (Helen Jackson), and some 
bright jingles by Laura C. Richards, with several full- 
page illustrations. 

The Century for May contains, besides the war series, 
the rescue of " Greely at Cape Sabine," a noteworthy 
paper by Ensign Charles H. Harlow, of the rescue ship 
Thetis. Other illustrated features of the number 
are the first of a series of two humorously illustrated 
papers on "The New Orleans Exposition," by Eugene 
V. Smalley, and the first of a series of articles on 
" Typical Dogs." Edmund Clarence Stedman's paper on 
the poet " Whittier " is the important literary feature of 
the number. Of fiction, there is a brief story by Mrs. 
Helen Jackson, entitled "The Prince's Little Sweet- 
heart "; the seventh part of Mr. Howells's novel, "The 
Rise of Silas Lapham," and the fourth part of Henry 
James's serial, " The Bostonians." There are also a 
number of poems by well-known authors. 

Miss Louise M. Alcott will return to her Concord 
home in a few days. 

Swinburne's "Marino Folio" will be ready this'month. 
It is a dramatic poem describing life in Venice in the 
twelfth century. 

Barrett Wendell, the author of The Dutchess Emilia, 
is one of the instructors in Harvard University. He was 
graduated at that institution in 1877. 

A short time before his death, the late T. S. Arthur 
arranged with Porter & Coates for an entirely new edi- 
tion of his famous "Ten Nights in a Bar-room." 

Moncure D. Conway, who is to return to this country 
and take up his residence in Washington, was forced to 
quit that city in 1857, on account of his radical political 

The author of the bright French books on England and 
Englishmen, beginning with John Bull et Son Isle, is 
said to be Paul Blouet, French master at Westminster 
School, and editor of the Clarendon Press volumes on 
French oratory. 

General Horatio C. King, who was with General 
Grant at Appomattox, has contributed some " Personal 
Recollections " of his old comrade to the May number 
of The Brooklyn Magazine. 

General Grant, it is said, is to receive from the pub- 
lishers of his autobiography, Charles T. Webster & 
Company, $200,000, which sum is to be carefully invested 
as the General's legacy to his family. It is gratifying to 
hear that he is able to resume his literary work. 

Mr. Cable's experience that a prophet is often without 
honor at home began long before his paper advocating 
the social equality of freedmen. The French Creoles of 
New Orleans first snubbed him at their swell literary 
club, and have since been his bitterest enemies. 

According to Le Francais, a captain in the French 
army has found time amid his duties in China to write a 
poem in competition for the Academy's prize of four 
thousand francs. He is a good soldier as well as a suc- 
cessful poet, and has already been decorated for gallant 
conduct in an engageme'nt. 

Edgar W. Howe, the author of Tlie Alyslery of the 
Locks, and Tlie Story of a Country Town, thinks that his 

stories are sad because they were written at night. " I 
never," he says, " felt ambitious or encouraged in my, 
life after dark, and darkness has a bad effect upon me, 
which only daylight can dispel." 

As Marshal MacMahon, the ex-Empress Eugenie, the 
Countess of Castiglione and Sir Julius Benedict are cred- 
ited with being engaged on memoirs, we shall probably 
have, ere long, opportunities to see the world of politics 
and music for nearly half a century back, as it appeared 
to some very sharp and far-seeing eyes. 

Mrs. John Maxwell, better known as Miss Hraddon, the 
novelist, lives at Litchfield House, Richmond. It is a 
historic structure. Built for the first Earl of Abergavenny, 
it later passed into the possession of the Bishop of Litch- 
field, and became his episcopal residence. Afterward, 
Cabalani, the singer got it, and gave notable receptions 
there. It is a handsome old place, in Sir Charles Wren's 
best style. 

When George H. Putnam projected his series of Prose 
Masterpieces, he wrote to all the living authors whom he 
desired to quote, and among others Ruskin, offering to 
pay them whatever they should think right for the use of 
their essays. Some accepted payment and some declined 
it, but all gave their permission except Mr. Ruskin, who 
bluntly said he did not wish to have anything to do with 
American publishers. A second note brought no encour- 
agement. Mr. Ruskin is in the habit of treating Ameri- 
can publishers with contempt. 

A number of authors are giving a series of public read- 
ings at the Madison Square Theater, for the benefit of 
the American Copyright League, which has tor its object 
the establishment of international copyright. W. D. 
Howells, Mark Twain, Julian Hawthorne, Charles Dud- 
ley Warner, Frank R. Stockton, and Edward Eggleston, 
have already taken part. Oliver Wendell Holmes, 
George W. Cable, Walt Whitman and Will Carlton have 
been invited to read, and Joel Chandler Harris will con- 
tribute a new unpublished Uncle Remus story. 

The poet Whittier writes as follows about Tourgee's 
Appeal to Ccesar, and its bearing on an important question 
of the day: "I have read Judge Tourgee's book with 
the deepest interest. It is a strong and powerful presen- 
tation of the great danger and need of our country at the 
present time. Its clarion call to the duty of educating 
every voter, black and white, in the United States, I trust 
will be heard." The continued appearance of articles on" 
the mutual relations of black and white in all the higher 
grades of reviews and magazines, indicates a popular 
thoughtfulness on this whole subject, which it is to be 
hoped will bear fruit during the next session of Congress. 

Mrs. Julia C. Ver Planck, author of the latest Madison 
Square success, Sealed Instructions, is prominent in 
literary and social circles in Philadelphia. Her mother, 
Julia Lewis Campbell, holds a conspicuous place among 
the poets mentioned in lemale Poets of America, and her 
father, the Hon. James Campbell, was formerly United 
States Minister to Sweden. Mrs. Ver Planck has visited 
many of the foreign courts of Europe, and it was during 
her father's career as a diplomate that she collected the 
materials for her play, which in some respects is said to be 
a literal transcript of actual incidents of court life in 

Mr. William H. Thomes, editor of Ballou's Magazine, 
is visiting San Francisco. Mr. Thomes delivered a lec- 
ture before the Society of California Pioneers on Monday 
night, which was full of reminiscences of his first visit in 
1843. He has lately published a book entitled On Land 
and Sea, or California in JS43, '44, '43. When Mr. 
Thomes landed at San Diego in 1843, his boyish mind 
was very much impressed with the beauty of a Spanish 
senorita who, like himself, was about fifteen years old. 
She was the daughter of a Spanish cavalier whose acres 
measured many leagues, and whose horses and cattle 
were numbered by thousands. It seems that Mr. Thomes, 
like a great many adventurous boys, had shipped before 
the mast, and as the ship carried a full cargo of mer- 
chandise, many ladies came aboard to make purchases. 
The surf runs high at San Diego, and it was the duty of 
the common sailors to carry the ladies in their arms 
through the surf, place them in small boats and row 
them alongside the ship. In On Land and Sea Mr. 
Thomes tells his impressions, and dwells at great length 
on the senorita 's beauty, concluding by saying he hoped 
when he met her in heaven that she would look as she 
did when he last saw her. Imagine his surprise on meet- 
ing an old comrade from California, to hear that the lady 
was alive, and resided at Santa Barbara. Like the gallant 
man that he is, Mr. Thomes immediately sent her a copy 
of his book, and was soon rewarded with a reply in Span- 
ish, telling him she could not read English, but her chil- 
dren had translated it for her. She thanked him for the 
compliment, and ended by saying, "Ah, senor, countries 
as well as people change ! California has grown into a 
beautiful state, while I am a very old woman." As soon 
as Mr. Thomes arrived in the city he made inquiries, and 
learned thas her son was in business here, and her two 
daughters were attending school at the Convent of the 
Sacred Heart, at Oakland. Last Thursday's reception 
found Mr. Thomes in the parlor of the Sacred Heart, 
shaking hands with the young misses, and looking for 
[ some trace of the mother's loveliness. Ferret. 


Among the curious wills and bequests that desei 
mention is that of a French merchant, who, in 1610, left 
a large legacy to the lady who had jilted him, in order to 
express his gratitude to her for her forbearance, and his 
admiration for her sagacity in leaving him to a happy 
bachelor life. 

Jasper Mayne, who died in 1620, left to a bibulous ser- 
vant an old portmanteau, which, he wrote, the legatee 
would value when he found that it contained somethine 
" which would enable him to drink." The " something " 
proved to be a red herring. A Scotch gentleman, leaving 
two young daughters, bequeathed to each her weight- 
not in gold, but — in 1/. notes. The elder seems to have 
been slimmer than her sister, for she only got 51,000/, 
while the younger received 57,000/. An annuity of 50/. 
was bequeathed to the bell-ringers of Bath Abbey, by 
Lieutenant Colonel Nash, " provided ihey should muffle 
the clappers of the bells of the said abbey, and ring them 
with doleful accentuation from eight a. m. to eight p. m. 
on each anniversary of his wedding day, and during the 
same number of hours, only with a merry peal, on the 
anniversary of the day which released him from domestic 
tyranny and wretchedness." Bequests of bodies for ana- 
tomical purposes, or of skulls as curiosities or relics, have 
been sufficiently numerous; but unquestionably the most 
curious will of this sort was that made by Mr. S. Sanborn, 
in 1 87 1, when the testator left his remains for dissection, 
and provided that the flesh stripped from his bones should 
lie used to fertilize an American elm, and his skin be con- 
verted into two drum-heads, inscribed with the Declara- 
tion of Independence and Pope's Universal Prayer, on 
»\hich "Yankee Doodle" should be played at Bunker 
Hill annually, on the 17th of June. 

A testator cannot, it need scarcely be said, be too care- 
ful in drawing up a will. " My black and white horses" 
does not bear the same meaning as " my black and my 
white horses." A near friend of Victor Cousin, the phi- 
losopher, lost a large legacy through a trifling accident 
and delay. Cousin intended to include his name in his 
will, but there was no stamped paper in the house, and 
he told his servant to obtain some. The servant said he 
would — to-morrow — and on the morrow Cousin died at 
dinner, just as a west-of-England millionaire was choked 
at breakfast with a fish bone, with the unsigned will which 
would have altered the disposition of his vast estate lying 
on the table. People should imitate the example of 
Lord Eldon, who, when a very rich piece of patronage 
came into his gift, having received the news while riding 
with the relative upon whom he intended to bestow it, 
wrote out the appointment while sitting in his saddle, lest 
he should be thrown from his horse before he got home. 
An officer in the Indian army, who had not much to 
leave, but was on friendly terms with two of his brother 
officers, made a will, leaving his property, consisting 
merely of personal belongings, to be divided between 
them. The testator came unexpectedly into a very large 
fortune, but he forgot all about his will, and never made 
another. When he died, the will made under such dif- 
ferent circumstances held good, and his aged mother, 
sisters and near relations were left out in the cold. 

Of bequests to animals a few may be mentioned. In 
187 1 a peasant of Toulouse made his horse his universal 
heir. Doctor Christiano, of Venice, left 6,000 florins for 
the maintenance of his three dogs, with a condition that 
at their death the sum should be added to the University 
of Vienna. A Mrs. Elisabeth Hunter, in 1813, left 20/. a 
year to her parrot, and the Count of Mirandob bequeathed 
a considerable legacy to a pet carp. Lord Chesterfield 
left a sum for the support of his favorite cat; so also did 
one Frederick Harper, who settled 100/. a year on his 
" young black cat," the interest to be paid to his house- 
keeper, Mrs. Hodges, as long as the cat should remain 

The most singular of these wills, however, was that of a 
Mr. Berkeley, of Knightbridge who died in 1805. He 
left 25/. to four of his dogs. During a journey through 
France and Italy this gentleman, being attacked by brig- 
ands, had been protected and saved by his dog; the four 
animals he pensioned by his will were the descendants of 
this faithful friend. Feeling his end near, Mr. Berkeley 
desired that two arm-chairs might be brought to his bed- 
side, and his four dogs seated on them ; he then received 
their last caresses, which he relumed with the best of his 
failing strength, and died in their paws. By an article in 
his will he ordered that the busts of his four dogs should 
be carved in stone and placed at the four corners of his 


I prayed for strength to bear my wrong, 
Unflinching courage, purpose strong, 
The power to make my neighbor: see 
I low wide tlie gulf 'twixt him and mc; 
'The opportunity to show 
How great a man he'd made his foe. 

But prayers like these were quite in vain;' 

In vain my will to tear the pain 

Of friendly love for bitter foe 

Out of my heart — it would not go. 

In vain I rallied hate anil pride, 

And called myself a fool, beside. 

Hut when, instead of drawing near 
Revengeful aids, I lent my ear 
To memory's 'count ol by-gone days. 
The loving words, the pleasant ways 
Of this dear friend, just now my foe, 
How bright the old heart-lire did glow! 

And when I further fanned the flame. 

Out of the warmth there straightway came 

A hand of love to lead mc where 

The wrong he'd done I could repair; 

And so two lessons love did send 

To cure myself and help my friend. 

Eleanor Kirk. 




Al 420 Kearny street, by 
Wm. P. Harrison. 

Subscription : $4 a year, po-.tage paid ; single copies Ten Cents. 
Newsdealers supplied by the San Fruncisco News Company, 710 Post st. 



MAY q, 1885 


Tin's issue of The San Franciscan introduces Mrs. 
Flora Haines Apponyi's delightful storv, "The Man 
Who Was Guilty." The Storv will be presented in 
weekly installments until completed. ft is founded upon 
fart, is local in personnel, and is Wtthal a finished literary 


The struggle for political liberty has been fought and 
won ; the edicts of kings, the decrees of tyrants, and the 
anathemas of popes, are no longer either heeded, feared, 
or dreaded ; the rights and liberties of the common people 
have been granted, established, and guaranteed by the 
most solemn and binding enactments; and still sorietv is 
not perfect, and the world is not happy. As civilization 
creates new wants, so does freedom create higher longings. 
The world has emerged from kinglv des'jotism into re- 
publican liberty, to find itself enthralled by environments 
equally hateful, and conditions equally galling. As the 
serfs, slaves, and villains of the feudal ages rebelled, and 
struggled against the hard and relentless conditions of 
their bondage, so does the modern freeman rebel against 
the environments which hedge him about in his Struggle 
for existence. The aspiration of freedom is equality. 
Fqualitv where all are poor is endurable, where all are 
rich delightful : but where some are poor and some are 
rich, is impossible. It does not demand the abolishment 
of property, nor an equal distribution of property, nor an 
over nice equilibrium of condition, but it does demand 
such an equilibrium as shall prevent marked, glaring, and 
envious distinctions between poverty and wealth. Wealth 
with its luxuries, its leisure, and its pleasures, is the goal 
of the poor ; but when it is so immoderate in its accumu- 
lations and so princely in its equipments as to be unat- 
tainable by a life of legitimate industry, it becomes a foe 
to equality, and a menace to all political institutions 
founded upon principles of equality. Inordinate wealth 
is therefore the obstacle to equality; but wealth is sanc- 
tioned by the same solemn enactments by which freedom 
itself is guaranteed. As kings once reigned by " divine 
right," so now does property, and the unlimited right to 
its acquisition exist bv claims equally potent. It was 
hard for the priest-ridden subjects of centuries ago to 
summon the courage to question the one ; so now it is like 
questioning the law of liberty itself to suggest a doubt as 
to the other. But the world has ceased to have reverence 
for existing things simply because they exist. While 
vested rights are yet respected, the modern philosopher 
has learned to draw very fine distinctions between rights 
that are rightlv vested and rights that are wrongly vested. 
If vested rights stand in the way of a fairer system of 
property distribution than now exists, the modern phi- 
losopher does not hesitate to say that vested rights must 
succumb to the good of society. The " higher law " which 
demanded the freedom of the slave, even against the 
vested right of ownership in the master, may also, in a 
more refined sense, demand a similar sacrifice of what now 
seems more legitimate property, for the purpose of secur- 
ing a more improved condition of society. 

Already, within the last decade, has the highest legal 
tribunal in this land recognized this tendency of modern 
thought by upholding the right of the people to dictate to 
the railroad monopolies the price they shall charge for 
the use of their lines of road in carrying freight and pas- 
sengers. And now in this city of San Francisco we are 
witnesses to the spectacle of two mighty corporate mo- 
nopolies, the Water and Gas Companies, meekly sub- 
mitting to the right of the purchasers and consumers of 
their respective commodities to fix and regulate the 
prices they shall charge for the articles furnished. This 
is a mild and legitimate species of Socialism. The 
people are beginning to deny that the right of property is 
absolute and unquestioned. So far the right has been 
asserted simply to the extent of taking away from the 
owners the power to dictate the price they shall ciiarge 
for its use; but the time may come, the exigency may 

arise, in which the pubKc may demand more abject sacri 
• The creation of perpetuities — a method by which 
the rich landed proprietors of England attempted, with 
the connivance of Parliament and by a thousand legal 
artifices, to perpetuate estates in their families by mak 
ing them inalienable — was opposed, neutralized, and 
finally prohibited judicially by the English courts, as 
effectually as if they had been prohibited by an act 
of Parliament — just as our own Supreme Court of the 
United States struck down the hitherto undisputed and 
unlimited right of property in railroads, by giving its high 
judicial sanction to the Granger tariff laws in the western 
states. The right of property without the unlimited right 
to domineer over it is in one sense a barren right ; but 
such is the law of the land as to pro|>erty " devoted to a 
pn blic use." If the time should ever come that the 
mighty corporate monopolies, shorn as they are of much 
of their power, should be recognized as dangerous to the 
state, is there any doubt of the power and disposition of 
the people to destroy them? Corporations are perpetui- 
ties. They are immortal, never-dying entities, that go on 
accumulating wealth and becoming possessed of property 
by millions and hundred of millions, until they become 
colossal powers in trade, finance and business — overriding 
all opposition, absorbing all competition, crushing out 
all individual effort, and destroying every vestige of 
equality. They are to-day being watched and feared 
and dreaded by the thoughtful statesmen of the time, 
who see in them elements of destruction to liberty and 
equality. It will not do, therefore, to say that society as 
now organized is perfect; that the laws relating to the 
ownership, acquisition, and distribution of property can 
not be improved, and that all there is now to do is for 
every man to fight the best battle he can for his subsist- 
ance, and that he who is strongest and most vigilant shall 
have the right to win. Freedom and equality have not 
yet been achieved. There are mighty struggles before 
us, and we shall be wise indeed if we profit by the dark, 
bloody and hateful past, and meet the social problems 
that are presenting themselves for solution in a spirit of 
reason, sincerity and justice, and not in a spirit of nar- 
row, bigoted selfishness. The American republic is but 
the beginning of the end. Here, where the blood of all 
the races of the earth is mingling and coursing together; 
where all the ideas, thoughts and civilizations of the 
earth are germinating into a higher form — here is to 
be the battle-ground of Arcadia. Here is to take place 
the grander struggles of civilization, out of which freedom 
and equality may at last join hands in a happy union. 


At the Folsom State Prison, instead of the conventional 
Chaplain, who fulfills his solemn duties by preaching to 
and praying for the prisoners, and looking after their 
spiritual welfare by giving them religious instruction, they 
have a gentleman (James Gauley, Esq.), evidently an 
original character and a man of independent views, who 
modestly styles himself a " Moral Instructor," and who 
fulfills his duties by inculcating among the prisoners what 
he terms the " common-sense principle." In his annual 
report to Warden McComb, Mr. Gauley sets forth his 
method of moral instruction, in which he says: 

The method or system of moral instruction adopted by me, I 
conceive to he based upon common sense. And my reasons for 
adopting such a method are simply these: first, because I had 
been advised by several able jurists and public instructors, and 
also by the more intelligent portion of the prisoners, that the 
"common-sense principle" would be the most effective in its re- 
sults; hence my adoption of it, which, I am pleased to say, has 
be»n most gratifying to me in its practical working, as the greatly 
improved methods of thought and action of the more intelligent 
portion of the prisoners clearly warrant. 

He then defines what he terms his common-sense prin- 
ciple to be " the ability to think justly, and to see clearly 
into every principle that is likely to affect our material and 
moral condition." In accordance with this idea, he says 
in his report that he has distributed among the 
prisoners a small pamphlet upon the subject of " Know- 
ing How to Think," which, he adds, " is the key to com- 
mon sense." He also says he has "compiled another 
pamphlet on the common-sense plan, which is filled with 
extracts from several of the best-known authors," which 
he intends to lay before the prisoners, "as instruction re- 
ceived through pamphlets is much more effective than 
that given in book form." Mr. Gauley's chief method of 
moral instruction, however, is by conversations with the 
prisoners. He says that after the prisoners have read 
these choice extracts from the ablest teachers and autbors 
on all great moral questions, and have reflected upon 
them, it is his province as moral instructor to engage 
them in conversation, for the purpose of impressing upon 
them the truths they have read, ascertaining what weight 

they have had upon their minds, how they have inter- 
preted them, and what they think of them. In short, 
Mr. Gauley has adopted the Socratic method of instilling 
truth into the dark and benighted minds of the prisoners 
at Folsom. As a justification for his adoption of the con- 
versational instead of the forensic method of instruction, 
he quotes at length the following most suggestive extract 
from the writings of Rev. Henry Giles, viz. : 

No method of presenting thought admits of more prominence 
than that of conversation. Much of the most enduring literature 
had this form. The finest parts of the l>est fiction are the con- 
versational parts. The whole substance of the d rama, both in 
tragedy and comedy, takes the conversational form. Conversa- 
tion fulfills several offices in social life and in individual culture. 
Conversation gives impulse, and impulse is a continual need of 
mind. Isolation tends to indolence; it begets inactivity and re- 
verie, and it may end with incapacity. The motion of the mind 
is not, more than any other motion, self-originated ; it is not per- 
petual. Were it even perpetual, that would not be sufficient. 
It would be but of one mind, and in one direction; but it needs 
to be of many kinds and many directions. Like all other mo- 
tions, it requires power from without to begin, to continue, to 
change, to contemplate, to vary it. Meditation will not answer, 
for this throws us on ourselves, and the inertia of our minds 
is such that we cannot meditate. Reading will not answer, for 
books are nothing when the mind is passive. Ideas in books are 
like objects in a prospect which dense fog covers; their glory is 
a blank until the sun melts off the vapor. Light and heat from 
the soul must pour themselves over the page before it shines with 
a living splendor. Mind must have the active and present con- 
tact of mind to arouse it, to provoke it to exertion, and to shame 
it out of sloth. Rut in the mere presence of humanity there is 
power, and independently of all excitement, this social magnetism 
of social intercourse calls out our mental energy and adds to it. 
The moral impulse of conversation is yet more valuable than the 
intellectual. Brooding discontents it shivers to small dust, and 
then it scatters this dust upon the air of pleasant works. It dis- 
pels the melancholy which solitary thought engenders; it casts 
out with its fine human exorcism the fiend of self-contemplation 
which scclusivc habits invite and worship. We find in conversa- 
tion a variety of wholesome impulses. We find them in sympathy 
that cheers us, and we find them in praise that encourages us. 
We find them in coincidence of opinion that strengthens our 
conviction, or in the dissent that sharpens our sagacity. We 
find them in the new thoughts from familiar minds, and in old 
thoughts from strange minds. Conversation is corrective ; it is 
corrective of opinion. No other method of comparison is more 
favorable to truth. 


There are five thousand boys in San Francisco under 
eighteen years of age, committing mental and moral sui- 
cide by smoking cigarettes. A full-grown man, or at least 
some full-grown men, may smoke a cigar, or even a pipe, 
without perceptible injury to mind or body; but even in 
its most homeopathic form tobacco is mental death to 
the growing boy. It muddles his brain, it weakens his 
will, it blights the freshness of his youth, it enervates 
his spirits, it destroys the sweetness of his boyhood, 
it makes him a sneak — for he is instinctively ashamed 
of the habit. He has not the apology of nerves that 
require soothing or of declining powers that need stim- 
ulating. With the boy it is a pure, unadulterated vice 
— an unpardonable sin. Cursed be the man who first 
invented cigarettes ! May the direst calamities of earth 
and hell overtake him ! May the eternal fires of Hades 
roast yet never consume him for diluting a strong and 
manly vice to the taste of " infants and sucklings," and 
thus corrupting the freshness and innocence of our sweet- 
breathed boys. Parents, teachers, friends, tell these little 
men of their danger. Warn them of the mental and 
moral death that will surely overtake them, and let us 
save them from the miserable fate that awaits them. 

A poor working-woman of our acquaintance authorizes 
us to say that she is willing to subscribe one hundred dol- 
lars from her savings to secure the passage of a law to 
prevent boys under eighteen years of age from purchasing 
cigarettes, to punish those who sell them to them, and to 
make it a misdemeanor, subjecting to arrest and punish- 
ment any boy under the prescribed age seen smoking on 
the street. As an evidence of the gravity with which this 
great modern vice is regarded in the East, we print the 
following, from an eastern exchange : 

Secretary Lincoln, late of the War Department, issued an order 
prohibiting the use of tobacco in any form by the students in the 
military academy at West Point. Four-fifths of them, it was 
found upon inquiry, were addicted to its use, either for chewing 
or smoking, or both. The Secretary's sensible position is that 
the government, which educates young men for its service, has a 
right to their best energies, and hence has a right to prohibit, if 
need be, any indulgence which weakens the nerves, clouds the 
brains and lessens the powers of endurance. It may be said that 
this is a sumptuary law, and is opposed to the principle of indi- 
vidual freedom. Hut it should be remembered that the youths at 
West Point are most of them quite young men — many of them 
mere boys, in fact— still in the stages of mental and physical de- 
velopment. If anything is agreed upon by physicians and pro- 
fessors of hygiene, it is that for young and growing persons a 
daily indulgence in any narcotic, however moderate, tends to re- 
tard development and lower the physical and mental tone. 

Secretary Lincoln has only done for the West Point school 
what the principals and trustees of ir/any of our best educational 
institutions have done for the schools under their charge. The 
young men are in training, like athletes, for a contest of physical 
and mental skill and endurance. It is eminently proper that 


they should abstain, of their own free will, from all enervating 
habits; but if the law is necessary, it should be strictly inforced. 


General Irwin N. McDowell, the distinguished com- 
mander, the faithful soldier, the accomplished gentleman 
and honored citizen, has passed away. For twenty-five 
years did this most patient, conscientious and honorable 
soldier endure, without ill-temper or remonstrance, the 
shallow criticisms, the thoughtless taunts and rude sneers, 
of unthinking, uninformed or prejudiced writers, concern- 
ing his conduct of the battle of Bull Run. Having full 
faith in the final justification of history, he lived long 
enough to see the true story of the battle from both stand- 
points given to the world, and to realize that his country- 
men absolved him from the blame of defeat. General 
McDowell was the victim of Bull Run. He and his 
noble army, contrary to his convictions, were driven upon 
the enemy by the angry popular cry, " On to Richmond ! " 
and when his unschooled soldiers were hurled back upon 
Washington, defeated, demoralized and dismayed, Gen- 
eral McDowell became the scapegoat for the public dis- 
satisfaction ; but he never " sulked in his tent." Like a 
true soldier, he obeyed with conscientious alacrity every 
order of his superior officer, and fought bravely and nobly 
wherever he was directed. He saw commander after 
commander of the Army of the Potomac try and fail 
where he tried and failed, each of them retiring in the 
face of the active and often malignant dissatisfaction of 
the people of the North ; but he steadily and unflinch- 
ingly performed his duty to the end. It was a humble 
station he was called upon to fill when he was sent to 
California in 1864, while the war was in full progress, yet 
he came cheerfully and without resentment, and nobly 
has he performed every duty devolving upon him here. 
General McDowell was not only a model soldier, he was 
a model citizen. His memory will be held in warm and 
grateful remembrance by the American people ; and we, 
his friends and neighbors who knew him at home, who 
partook of his splendid hospitality, who enjoyed his friend- 
ship and social intercourse, will never cease to reverence 
and love the gallant and noble General McDowell. 


The President has made a happy beginning in the 
selection of Stuart M. Taylor as Naval Officer of the 
Custom House in San Francisco. Colonel Taylor is a 
gallant, high-toned gentleman, who has the full confi- 
dence of the entire community, both Democratic and 
Republican. His oratory, though graceful and effective 
on the stump, is essentially of the spread-eagle sort, 
but his principles are as sterling as his integrity is un- 
questioned. He belongs eminently to the respectable 
element of the Democratic party of California, and we 
are right glad indeed to find our confidence in President 
Cleveland's judgment and discrimination verified in so 
signal a manner. It is true it is not an exceedingly 
ambitious place for Colonel Taylor ; it does not call for 
the exercise of very marked abilities, and is perhaps sug- 
gestive of a little condescension for a man of Colonel 
Taylor's standing; but it is an amiable fault, and one 
easily forgiven, that a $6,000 man should accept a $4,000 
place. ' 



With high-pointed hats, natty jackets and plenty of 
tinsel braid, the ladies at the theater nowadays look like 
so many Tyrolean warblers, and one almost expects them 
to stand up in line and jodel a few bars in the entr'actes. 
As Spoopendyke would say, they only want alpenstocks 
and criminal instincts to become Obenreizers in the Billy- 
Florence-among-the-Alps style, or a coat of yellow paint 
and one of shellac to look like genuine Swiss carvings from 

All over the United States the daily papers are going in 
for wood-cuts. The craze is only beginning in San Fran- 
cisco, but it rages like an epidemic in the East. They 
are now offering a reward for a resident of New York or 
Brooklyn who has not had his features reproduced in 
some hideous wood-cut just enough like him to be aggra- 
vating. When facts fail them they resort to fiction. I 
think it was the Star that recently published imaginary 
portraits of Mrs. Astor making shirts for eight cents 
apiece, Cyrus W. Field slinging plates in a cheap restau- 
rant, Mrs. Paran Stevens cooking flap-jacks, Vanderbilt 
driving a street car, and many more. In a town of this 
size that sort of thing might create a ripple. Fancy Mr. 
Crocker toying with a grip on the Haight street line, or 

the buttery James G. Fair talking a customer into a suit 
of clothes at the I X L, or Irving M. Scott, out at the 
elbows and all over paint, trying to sell a pot-boiler for 
two dollars; imagine what a discouraged-looking knife- 
grinder Senator Sharon would make, or how the sleek 
Marquis de Testeferrata would stagger under obscurity 
and an ash-barrcl;. picture Mr. Flood stumbling down 
an alley-way with a load of coal, or Joe Grant in a small 
Hayes Valley store, measuring out ten cents' worth of 
worsted with a smile thrown in, or Bob Morrow driving a 
load of granite at the rate of a block a day; or conceive 
of the success with which the sumptuous General Barnes 
would sell rose-buds on a corner. Here is a brilliant op- 
portunity for local enterprise. 

The San Francisco papers are a perfect bonanza to 
many of the Eastern journals. There is a lively compe- 
tition in newspapers here, and a great deal of clever, 
original work is written and published, only to be stolen 
bodily by the eastern papers, who rarely .acknowledge the 
source from which they draw. Derrick Dodd is as much 
copied in the East as Bill Nye is here, and is only half 
the time acknowledged. The Chronicle " Undertones," 
alternately praised and reviled in San Francisco, are cop- 
ied everywhere, and very rarely acknowledged. Hun- 
dreds of fashion, dramatic, and humorous squibs in our 
weekly papers are copied broadcast without being cred- 
ited. I have discovered by experience that The San 
Franciscan has had from the beginning an appreciative 
reader in the American Queen, now, I believe, changed 
to Town Talk. About three weeks ago the Saturday 
number of the Daily Evening Telegram, of New York, 
published on the editorial page a short story apparently 
written by some member of their staff. But it wasn't ; it 
was given literatim el verbatim as it appeared in the Wasp. 
I know, because I wrote it. It's all very well for the 
eastern papers to make capital out of western effusions, 
but they should realize that we understand the situation. 

Having exhausted other excitements, the New York 
News went for the Smith family two weeks ago, and pub- 
lished a page of wood-cuts of all the famous Smiths of 
New York. It is only justice to San Francisco to remark 
that with all their wealth and numbers there wasn't a 
Count Smith among them. 

Dramatic papers please copy. They need not at- 
tempt the courtesy of an acknowledgement, as the sur- 
prise would be fatal : At a recent visit to the Napa In- 
sane Asylum I saw some pathetic and interesting cases, 
and heard of others not permitted to be seen. One of the 
saddest was that of a beautiful young girl who fell while 
skating at a roller-skating rink in this city. She hit her 
head in a manner that seemed commonplace enough at 
the time, but in a very short time it was seen that her 
reason was permanently affected. It is more than a year 
since the accident occurred. I am told that Dr. Wilkins, 
the Superintendent of the asylum, is opposed to roller 
skating, and believes that the falls received frequently 
lead to insanity, or to other troubles almost as serious. If 
it comes to a question of the health of our young 
women, it will be best for the greatest good of the greatest 
number that the skating rinks should go. 

Stevens must have written the play of In TJie Dark as 
its name implies. In this day of dead illusions how can 
a man expect the public to swallow a reporter who is 
bowed down to as if he were a god; who goes to work up 
a detail in the slums of New York, and is attired in a 
Prince Albert coat, a high silk hat, and writes with his 
gloves on ? Imagine the skyward bounce a sweet young 
thing of that kind would receive if he entered the office 
of a sure-enough daily paper. Picture him going down 
to Mother Mendelbaum's in that raiment, and running 
the gauntlet of Bowery boys and street Arabs; but to do 
that is to picture him obliterated. We might forgive 
Mr. Stevens for making up for Eugene Dewey when he 
wants to represent a serious philanthropist, but we must 
draw a line at the reporter. 

" Who is that? " asked a lady the other night, at the 

"That's Charley Morel," replied her escort; " he has 
been singing tenor parts in opera here these last twenty 

" Yes, that's what I thought. But he's singing bass 
just now." 

" Oh, that's all right. At present he's a tenor by birth, 
but a bass by profession." 

To the local critic who reproaches me for referring to 
the decadence of matrimony, I can only say that I am 
not personally responsible for the facts; I merely state 
them. No observer can doubt that marriage is less and 
less a prime object in life, but is coming to be regarded 
as a side issue of lessening importance. Apropos of this 
I quote from the Boston Transcript a paragraph trans- 
lated from the Paris Revue de Deux Mondes: 

The ambition of this later time, which impels women toward 
studies and occupations hitherto reserved for men, justifies more 
and more every day the saying of Alexander Dumas (fits), 
" Woman begins to make marriage no longer her sole end, or 
love her only ideal," 


A collection which by no means reflects great credit 1 
the Palette Club is now on exhibition at its snug little 
quarters on Kearny street. A number of the club mem- 
bers are not represented, and others but poorly. Robin- 
son's " Wreck of the King Philip " is a masterly study of 
alongshore subjects, and the sky, sea and beach are ren- 
dered so feelingly, and with so little apparent labor, that 
their effect is very pleasing. This marine is one of the 
best of the pictures displayed at the exhibition. L R. 
Dickinson has a number of indifferently executed water- 
colors, of which the best is probably " Cornish Fisher- 
men," and the worst " Dreamland," in which there is an 
unmeaning mass of foliage, bad coloring, and a wretchedly 
drawn figure. Oscar Kunath's large portrait of a demi- 
brunette is a revelation in pastel work. It is a life-size, 
half-length portrait of a society young lady named Miss 
Bullock. The young lady's hands are crossed in her lap. 
She wears a pale-brown dress, open at the neck, with elbow 
sleeves. The face is strikingly natural in drawing and 
color, and has, with the hair, eyes and neck, received the 
most painstaking treatment, while the dress texture and 
hands are surprisingly real. 

"An Egyptian at Prayer " and " Niagara " are two fairly 
executed pastels by W. Harring. 

Standing out from a background of work which calls for 
no especial mention, is that wonderful water-color by 
Mm. C. A. de L'Aubinierc, "The Hunter's Return." 
This picture and " In the Gloaming" are two of the best 
water-colors ever exhibited in this city. " The Hunter's 
Return " represents a Colorado cabin interior, with a 
hunter hanging up venison, and his daughter sitting near 
in the left foreground. The picture is full of quiet 
quiet interest, is not labored in effect nor overdrawn in 
the least degree. The harmonious blending of rich colors, 
and the careful arrangement of light and shade, together 
with the strong feeling and expression which is visible in 
all of Mme. de L'Aubiniere's work, proclaims the artist 
while it commands our attention and respect. This pic- 
ture will contribute a great deal toward the success of the 

Raschen has a study of a squaw's head, and a " Yellow- 
hammer," a bit of still life which will not compare with 
Brooke's studies in the same field, but which is very 
acceptable. Raschen's " Bean Poker " is a good presen- 
tation of life in the backwoods, and his" Indian " is quite 
clever. " The Hunter," which is the joint production of 
Von Perbandt and Raschen, is a carefully wrought and 
highly interesting redwood scene, in the middle distance 
of which a deer-slayer is climbing a fence, gun in hand, 
and bending under the weight of the heavy game on his 
back. Von Perbandt has made a very extensive study of 
the redwoods, and handles his subjects with freedom, the 
effect being very satisfactory. 

John Stanton shows some clever work in his " Ballet 
Girl," which is sufficiently stagy, and the texture of the 
flimsy robes has been produced with good results, while 
the face and bare arms are well drawn. " Little Bo 
Peep" is one of those juvenile studies which is always 
denominated " cute " by the ladies. It is the figure of 
a little girl leaning on a shepherdess's crook, and walking 
down a sunny, grass-grown slope. Neither of these pic- 
tures are in Stanton's best mood, but they arc very 

Tojetti has two pictures which are treated with his 
characteristic sharpness of outline and coldness of color. 
His female head is a masterly production, while Cupid is 
just a trifle stiff, though rich in flesh color, anil with a 
splendid play of light and shade. 

• "The Upper Yosemite " is a striking view of the 
famous valley, by Frank Heath. While there is nothing 
wonderful in the way the subject has been handled by 
Mr. Heath, it must be admitted that he has produced 
results not far behind those of his more ambitious proto- 
types. The scene is from a point which is comparatively 
new to us, and is full of interest to lovers of the pic- 
turesque beauties of Yosemite. In " Sunset on the 
Cliffs" Mr. Heath does not shine quite so brightly, for 
the picture is unnatural in color, although the cloud 
effects are quite happy. 

A Frenchy piece of landscai>e work is C. A. de L'Au- 
biniere's " Morning Mist," in which we see good water, 
and a sufficiently somber background of black clouds, 
while the foreground is thrown into a strong light. " Un- 
der the Greenwood Tree " affords a study in the ultra- 
broad treatment of wood interiors which hardly strikes 
the California critic with favor, although it is intended for 
a California scene. 

"Aback for a Pilot " is one of those marines which ap- 
pear to have been copied from stage scenery. The water 
is opaque and dry ; the ship is in bad drawing, and one 
becomes satisfied at a glance that marine painting is not 
Mr. Gurney's forte. 

Rothe's "Unannounced Visitor" and "Study of a 
Head " attract attention as being very clever work in a 
peculiar school of art; and " Near Lake Merritt," by E. 
M. Pissis, is an amateurly treated California scene full of 
sunlight, and giving promise of better work by the same 
hand. Midas. 

The light of other days : Last winter's coals. 




As soon as the ships reached Payer harbor, Lieutenant 
Colwell was directed to take the Bear's steam launch and 
visit the wreck cache left by the Proteus in luly, 1883. 
He was one of the officers of the unfortunate Proteus ex- 
pedition, and knew the exact location of the cache that 
was built before the retreat of its survivors. The launch 
had been supplied with provisions and water for the use 
of her cr*;w, and had started for Cape Sabine, when a hail 
from the Bear recalled him. Taunt's messenger had 
arrived, and told of the location of Greely's camp. Beef 
tea, milk, crackers, an alcohol stove, blankets, etc., were 
hastily thrown in the launch, and he started again, taking 
with him Chief Engineer Lowe and the two ice-pilots. 
He was instructed to find out the condition of the party, 
and tell them that relief was at hand. The Bear followed 
them in a few moments. The launch whistled frequently 
as she steamed along, and we knew afterward that the 
sound was heard by those who lay in the tent, which was 
partly blown down. Brainard and Long succeeded in 
creeping out from under its folds, and crawled to the top 
of a hill near by, from which was visible the coast toward 
Cape Sabine. At first nothing was seen by them; and 
Brainard returned to the tent, telling by the silent despair 
of his face that there was no hope. The survivors dis- 
cussed the probable cause of the noise, and decided that 
it was the wind blowing over the edge of a tin can. Mean- 
while Long crept higher up the hill, and watched atten- 
tively in the direction from which the sound had appar- 
ently come. A small black object met his gaze. It 
might be a rock, but none had been seen there before. 
A thin white cloud appeared above it ; his ear caught the 
welcome sound, and the poor fellow knew that relief had 
come. In the ecstasy of his joy he raised the signal-flag, 
which the gale had blown down. It was a sad, pitiable 
object — the back of a white flannel undershirt, the leg of 
a pair of drawers, and a piece of blue bunting, tacked to 
an oar. The effort proved too much for him, and he 
sank exhausted on the rocks. It was enough for the re- 
lief party; they saw him, whistled again, and turned in 
for the shore with all possible speed. Long rose again, 
and fairly rolled down the hill in his eagerness to meet 
them. The launch touched the ice-foot, and the relief 
party hurried toward him. The ice-pilot of the Bear 
reached him first, spoke a word of cheer, and asked him 
where Greely was. He informed him of the location of 
the tent and the state of the party. They hurried in the 
direction indicated, and soon reached the tent, while Mr. 
Lowe took Long off to the Bear. 

In reply to our ice-pilot's question, " Is that you, 
Greely?" a feeble voice responded, " Yes; cut the tent." 
The pilot whipped out his knife and cut the hind end of 
the tent open, from as high as he could reach to the 
ground. Through this opening Colwell entered. The 
light in the tent — it was nine o'clock p. m. — was too dim 
to see plainly what lay before him, but he heard a voice 
in the further corner warning him to be careful and not 
step on Ellison and Connell. He found Greely lying 
under the folds of the tent, with the fallen poles across 
his body. Biederbeck was standing; Ellison and Con- 
nell lay on either side of the opening, the latter apparently 
dead. Stepping carefully across their bodies, he dragged 
Greely out and sat him up. He was so weak that he 
could barely swallow the crumbs of hard-tack that Col- 
well gave to him in the smallest pinches. It was said that 
Greely first asked the rescuers if we were Englishmen; 
and on being told that we were his own countrymen, he 
added, " And I am glad to see you." 

Greely told Colwell that Ellison had both hands and 
feet frozen off, and that Connell was dying ; and then be- 
gan in a rambling way to tell the long tale of suffering and 
misery thai had just ended. Colwell cheered him with 
the story of the friends who were waiting to carry him 
home; urged him to lie down and wait patiently; turned 
to the other poor fellows in the tent, sat them up in their 
bags, and fed them with cracker and pemmican. A small 
"rubber bottle containing about a quarter of a gill of rum, 
probably reserved for medical purposes, had been kept 
nanging in the tent. When the first cheers of the relief 
party were heard, Biederbeck arose to take it down. He- 
had it in his hand when Colwell entered. He reached 
over Connell, raised his head, and poured a few drops in 
his mouth, then divided the remainder equally among 
his comrades. Connell's last words would doubtless have 
been, " Let me alone ; let me die in peace," had he not 
been revived by the influence of this rum. As he de- 
scribed his situation to me afterward, he said he was dead 
to the waist, all feeling had left him, and he had but an 
hour or two more of life. " Death had me by the heels, 
sir, when you gentlemen came and hauled me out by the 
head," was his description of his plight. Colwell then 
directed his party to prop up as much of the tent as they 
could ; he built a fire, and set pots of milk and beef tea 
to warming, carried Brainard and Biederbeck outside the 
tent, and wrapped clean blankets about them. A large 
party soon arrived from the Bear, Captains Schley and 
Emory and Dr. Ames among them. They busied them- 
selves in doing all they could to relieve the sufferers. The 
doctor superintended the administering of the food, allow- 
ing only the smallest quantities to be given at a time. 
The sailors required to be watched. With their pockets 
full of bread, and open cans of pemmican in their hands, 
they would feed the poor fellows surreptitiously. Their 
hearts were larger than their judgment and experience. 
As soon as order and system were attained, Captain 
Schley directed Colwell to signal to the Thetis for the 
photographer, for Doctor Green, more men, blankets, 
food, etc. 

Sebree and I had speculated upon the possibilities of 
the next hour, but little dreamed of the horrible tragedy 
that was to be revealed. Some one was seen on the ice- 
foot, signaling. I ran forward to read it, but he had begun 
his message, and I only got the following : " Harlow with 
photograph machine. Doctor with stretchers. Seven 
alive." When it came to the last two words, I had him 
repeat them. They might be D-E-A-D. But no! 

A-L-I-V-E waved plainly through the air, and the fate 
of the Greely party was known on board the Thetis. 
Two boats were lowered at once, and Taunt, Lemly, 
Melville, Doctor Green, and I started with strong crews 
for the shore. The wind had increased to a full gale, and 
was tearing over the hills in furious blasts. It was a hard 
pull ; it seemed a long pull ; but with water dashing over 
the bows at every lunge and rolling gunwales under in 
the short but heavy seas, we finally reached the shore. 
The boats were secured to the ice-foot in the quiet of a 
little cove, and we landed at Camp Clay. Shouldering 
my camera, I started for the tent. A few steps further 
and I met Fredericks, one of the survivors, who was 
strong enough to walk to the boats. A clean white blan- 
ket was thrown over his head and wrapped about his 
shoulders. A sailor supported him on either side. His 
face was black with dirt, and his eyes gleamed with the ex- 
citement of relief. What to say to him I did not know. 
The commonplace " How are you, old fellow?" elicited 
the reply, " Oh, I am all right"; and I passed on. Turn- 
ing a little to the left, the tent came in view. To my 
right, stretched out on the snow-drift, lay one of the dead. 
His face was covered with a woolen hood, his body with 
dirty clothes. Hurrying on past a little fire, over which a 
pot of milk was warming, 1 came to the tent. One pole 
was standing, and about it the dirty canvas bellied and 
flapped in the fierce gusts. Brainard and Biederbeck lay 
outside at the bottom of the tent and a little to the left 
of the opening, one with his face swollen and rheumy, so 
that he barely could show by his eyes the wild excitement 
that filled him ; the other muttering in a voice that could 
scarcely be heard in the howling of the gale his hungry 
appeal for food. Reaching over, I wiped their faces with 
my handkerchief, spoke a word of encouragement to them, 
and then pushed aside the flap of the tent and entered. 
The view was appalling. Stretched out on the ground, 
in their sleeping-bags, lay Greely, Connell, and Ellison, 
their pinched and hungered faces, their glassy, sunken 
eyes, their scraggy beards and disheveled hair, their wist- 
ful appeals for food, making a picture not to be forgotten. 
I had time for a glance only; the photograph must be- 
taken and the poor fellows removed to the ships. Step- 
ping over to Greely, whom I recognized by his glasses, I 
pressed his hand. A greeting to the other two, and I re- 
turned to my camera, to take the plate I had so often 
pictured to myself: " The meeting with Greely ! " How 
different it was from the ideal picture, only my own 
imagination can know. 

Strewn about the ground were empty cans, a barometer 
case, chronometer boxes, a gun, old clothes, valuable 
meteorological instruments, showing the indifference they 
felt for anything that was not food or fuel. The diffi- 
culties in the way of a successful photograph at 11 p.m. in 
the twilight of an Arctic evening were innumerable, but 
there was no time to be lost; so 1 made the exposure with 
many misgivings as to its results. But four plates re- 
mained in my holders. Two of these I devoted to the 
tent, one to the winter-house, and one to the graves. 
While I was absent for these last two views, Greely and 
his men were wrapped in blankets, placed on stretchers, 
carried down to the little cove where the boats lay, and 
taken off to the ships — Greely, Connell, Brainard, and 
Biederbeck to the Thetis; Fredericks and Ellison to the 
Bear. The living having been attended to, our next 
duty lay with the dead. Placing my camera on the rocks 
near the tent, I joined Captain Emory and Colwell, who, 
with a party of men, had been directed to disinter the 
bodies. On a piece of canvas cut from the tent 1 drew a 
diagram of the graves, numbering each one from the right, 
facing their heads. This precaution was necessary, in 
order to avoid any confusion in identifying the remains. 
With a memorandum of the order in which they had 
been buried, the name of each one could be appended to 
its number. By the aid of tin cans and dishes-as imple- 
ments, each body was then uncovered, wrapped in the 
tent canvas, or some of the new blankets that we had with 
us, lashed with the tent-cords, numbered according to its 
place on the diagram, and sent down to the boats on the 
shoulders of the men. This task finished, and the bodies 
divided between the boats, the next difficulty was to reach 
the ships. The gale had increased to a hurricane by this 
time, and the moment the boats got clear of the land oars 
became perfectly useless. The ships steamed up as close 
to us as they dare come ; and by alternately drifting and 
struggling to keep the boats' head to wind, their bows 
deeply loaded with the dead bodies, shipping gallons of 
water until it swashed nearly to the thwarts, we finally got 
alongside. Meanwhile the survivors were under treat- 
ment, having their rags removed, and being bathed and 
fed. When the dead had been placed on the deck 'and 
covered with a tarpaulin, we steamed back to Cape Sa- 
bine, and made fast to the floe about 3 : 30 in the morning. 
A little later I was dispatched to my cairn on Stalknecht 
Island, and brought back all the records I had left the 
night before. The Bear visited Camp Clay and gathered 
up every vestige of the party that the closest scrutiny 
could detect. Greely lay in his bunk and talked fluently 
all through the night. The officers relieved one another 
in telling him of the events of the past three years, and 
trying to quiet him. He seemed to realize his nearness to 
death, and desired to tell all he could about his work, 
lest some part might be overlooked. His face was emaci- 
ated, his cheeks sunken and pale, his form wasted to a 
shadow. His hair was long, tangled, and unkempt. As 
he lay partly on his side, with head resting on his left hand, 
his right hand moving restlessly about, one could not look 
at him unmoved. Had he kept silent, a single glance be- 
spoke the days of misery that he had passed through ; but 
to hear his low, weak voice telling the incidents of the 
dark days brought tears to the eyes of many of his listen- 
ers. — C/ias. H. JIarlowe, in May Century. 

By every cut-down in wages suffered by the mill peo- 
I pie, the store-keepers and other business men suffer pro- 
1 portionately. When this fact is fully recognized it may 
lead to the middle and lower classes working more in 
J sympathy with each other. — Western Trade Review. 


With every change that is made in the management 
and control of the Patent Office come a number of sug- 
gestions from inventors and others who have given the 
subject thought, to bring about a reform in the practices 
of the Patent Office. It is admitted on all sides that 
business is several years behindhand in that office, 
though, as is also generally known, the Patent Office is 
one of the few branches of the government that more 
than pays its expenses. The clerical force has kept on • 
growing year by year, until now it is so large that the en- 
tire Interior Department Building is demanded for its 
uses. The Patent Office will have, as soon as the east 
wing is completed, about four times as much storage 
room for models as it had ten years ago, and yet inside of 
a couple of years more room will be demanded. The 
inventive genius of the country was never more active or 
more unprofitable, for it is a well-known fact that not one 
patent in every hundred which are issued ever gets into 
general use or brings enough to the inventor to pay the 
expenses of securing the patent. Experts say tnat not 
one patent in each one thousand that are issued makes 
money for its inventor. There was a time when the patents 
were so few that the President signed all of them, as he 
did also all land patents. These would now take every 
moment of the President's time, had not the law been 
changed. More care is exercised now in what is patented 
than formerly. The records of the Patent Office show 
that James Monroe, with his own hand, wrote out and 
signed the patent issued to William Harris for the faro- 
box. Such things are not patentable now. 

It is generaly conceded that inventors should not be 
harassed as much as they now are by law. To bring this 
about all sorts of reforms have been suggested, but none 
of them have ever been adopted. On the other hand, it 
is contended that there are too many patents issued, and 
that the policy of the Patent Office should be to issue 
patents for nothing that is not of value. The present 
policy is to issue as many patents as possible, not because 
they are of value, but because every patent brings into 
the Patent Office about fifty dollars, which comes out of 
the poor inventor's pocket, and goes to support hundreds 
of Patent Office clerks and to increase the fund of the 
Patent Office, which is already more than the clerks can 

Professor A. M. Watson, who has been trying to reform 
the Patent Office for years, will again offer his plan as 
soon as the new Commissioner of Patents can find time 
to consider it. Professor Watson proposes to revolution- 
ize the entire Patent Office by abolishing the whole thing, 
and in its place provide two or three clerks, whose duty 
it shall be to issue patents to all who ask for them for a 
fee of one dollar, the same as copyrights are issued, with- 
out any examination whatever. This plan, he says, is 
now in operation in Switzerland, and works well. A 
patent now does not per se guarantee that the thing pa- 
tented is of any value. His plan of giving patents can- 
not guarantee less. If there are infringements they must 
be fought out in the courts, as they are under the present 
system. His one-dollar patent will give an inventor as 
much right to sue and be sued, and spend all his spare 
change paying lawyers to defend or prosecute his rights, as 
the fifty-dollar palent under the present system. It will 
give him the same standing in court, or the same want of 
standing. It will, however, he says, prevent poor invent- 
ors from being plucked for fifty dollars, and allow them 
patents, if they desire them, for their valueless as well as 
valuable inventions, at a cost of one dollar. 

Of the four hundred kinds of horseshoes patented, but 
one — the old-fashioned blacksmith-made shoe — has come 
into general use, and Professor Watson thinks it makes 
but little difference to any one except the inventors 
whether they paid one dollar or fifty dollars for their pat- 
ents. The patenting of horseshoes goes on, not because 
it is thought any of them will supersede the blacksmith- 
made, old-fashioned shoe, but because by issuing patents 
at fifty dollars each more clerks can be employed. He 
thinks that it should be the duty of some one else to sup- 
port these clerks, and that inventive genius should be re- 
lieved from the burden. — A r eiu York Herald. 

Mr. Tyndall's suggestion of a competition between 
prayer and no prayer in the hospitals, as a test of the 
efficiacy of prayer in special cases, was received with a 
blast of indignation throughout England — Churchmen 
and Dissenters, Catholics and Hebrews joining in the 
shout. Now there comes from Scotland, where one may 
believe the indignation against the natural philosopher 
must have been fiercest, this bit of news : A congrega- 
tion at Dumfries, after a great controversy as to the advis- 
ability of building a new church, decided that " the 
Head of the Church " should be invoked in prayer to de- 
cide the issues. Four office-bearers, therefore, were told 
off to pray, two for the new building and two others for 
sticking to the old one. How it will be decided which 
pair of contestants has won in this tournament of prayer, 
or who shall declare the issue determined, is not made 
known. The result of this new application of the com- 
petitive system will be awaited with impatience — by the 
parties looking for the job of building the possible new 
conventicle. — Boston Transcript. 

We hope that Mr. Cleveland will catch the art which 
Mr. Lincoln knew by instinct, of ruling the country and 
the men around him, but by doing it in a way which 
looked as though he was but giving expression to the 
people's already expressed will. Above all things, we 
nope he will discard negative men, and only lean on 
people through whose arteries warm blood is bounding. — 
Salt Lake Tribune. 

" Do you suppose eating angel-cake wiil make an 
angel of me ? " asked a young lady of a young gentle- 
man. " I've no doubt it will, he answered, " if you eat 

enough of it." 



It would heap too much honor upon Lord Bacon should 
he prove to be the author of the Shakespeare plays. 
But such an extra award would carry out the scriptural 
"To him that hath shall be given," while from such a 
poor deer-stalker as William Shakespeare shall be taken 
away what little he seemed to have. 

But Bacon, even if he was a dramatist, did more as a 
philosopher than as a dramatist, for his philosophy has 
helped make a great world, while the plays have helped 
make only a great stage. And yet the real truth is that no 
one man composed either the Baconian philosophy or the 
Shakesperian plays. They were both the slow-coming re- 
sults of a long past. In Bacon and Shakespeare the 
philosophy and the drama reached a final climax, and be- 
came ready for a large service. The plays are found far 
back ot Shakespeare, and the philosophy far back of 

Bacon's merit lies in the fact that he called the atten- 
tion of scholars and thinkers to the value of earth and 
material sciences; and urged them to gather up terrestrial 
data instead of transcendental data, and instead of seek- 
ing definitions of "mind," "soul," "angel," "will," 
" fate," " man," " horse," and " eternity," these thinking 
leaders should gather up all the information possible 
about the soils, grains, winds, rains, instruments, ma- 
chines, arts, and appliances of society, and then draw 
conclusions that would compel a general advance. Open 
any one of the great books of the older world, and there 
is an amazing omission of the domestic arts and sciences, 
and a wonderful attention to things moral, imaginary, 
fanciful, romantic, and fantastic. Angels, imps, nymphs, 
large and small deities, dwarfs, giants, and ghosts, are born 
out of the fertile human fancy as sparks rise from a shaken 
fire, but in these thousands of years no thinking mind 
touches a plow or reaping-knife, or any implement, to 
make it do more good, and with less labor. The ground 
is plowed with a crooked stick, the harvest is cut with a 
case-knife; and while women and children are reaping 
and thrashing the one-third crop, the ten thousand birds 
eat up a fourth part of the ripe grain, and another fourth 
part is taken by the tax-farmers, who scour the country 
like jackals at night on a battlefield. Hence great famines 
and diseases came and swept away millions. The so- 
called thinking men were too busy in the regions of ab- 
straction and fancy to admit of their bestowing any atten- 
tion upon the study of harvest-fields, production, imple- 
ments, disease and health. 

Had not Rome gone down under her military madness 
and the vices that resulted from her conquests, Lord Ba- 
con would perhaps have been robbed of his laurels, and 
made impossible by the sons of Virgil and Pliny. Rome 
had begun to study the development of material things, 
and was busy at great wagon-roads, aqueducts, drains, 
and general improvements. Caesar had begun to invite 
men of science to come to Rome to reside. He planned 
libraries for all the large towns; he was planning a drain- 
ing and filling of the Pontine marshes; he had forbidden 
the young men of rank to ride in litters carried by slaves; 
he had stopped the importing of luxuries; he had set the 
example of plain living and plain dress. The Latin mind 
had gotten wholly away from the transcendental regions, 
and had fled from a million deities to almost none at all. 
In the Georgics of Virgil we see the new thought and life 
that were passing into the plow, the harrow, the soil, the 
orchard, and the bee-hive, while in Pliny we note a study 
of nature that would do credit now to a Watt or a Frank- 
lin or an Edison. 

All things indicated an era of material advance. But 
this awakening came too late. Rome was a sick man 
whose constitution was gone. Reason came too late, and 
going into a rapid dissolution, dissolute Rome handed 
over her begun sciences and inventions to the tender care 
of the Sixteenth Century, in which Bacon was to come. 
Long was the interval between Virgil, Pliny, and Lord 
Bacon. It was filled in chiefly by the affairs of religion, 
and the lofty decorations of religion. 

Christianity did not make the Dark Ages. They were 
manufactured in the days which ruined the Pagan splen- 
dor; and Christianity had to accept of a wreck as her in- 
heritance. Goth,. Vandal', and every kind of wild and 
forlorn creature were to be found in the estate that passed 
into the hands of Constantine. The mysterious Druids 
were on one border, the heathen on another, and the 
Norsemen were passing down through the center. The 
new Christianity did not know anything except theol- 
ogy, and the house of theology; and thus the human 
mind was turned toward the study of God and the house 
of God. Out of the former came theological studies, out 
of the latter came the fine arts. As for the domestic and 
useful arts, they had no friends for twelve hundred years. 

Under the impulse given by Lord Bacon, mankind be- 
gan to let the angels alone long enough to admit of a look 
at the plow, the hoe, the orchard, the field. This look 
was repeated until new implements and inventions began 
to appear. The steam-engine and railway, the steamship, 
the reaping-machine, have appeared on the arena of man, 
and while the angels are not harmed any by this philo- 
sophic neglect, the millions not yet angels have profited 
much by the transfer of thought from things in heaven to 
things on earth. Heaven ana earth will be equal partners 
in the philosophy of the future. — Professor David Swing, 
in Current. 

Since 1870 women have been admitted to universities 
in Sweden, Norway, Russia, Switzerland, Italy, Spain, 
and France. At St Petersburg in 1882 ninety-nine young 
women were given degrees in the literary and historical 
department, and sixty-four in the scientific department. 

The French are finding in Tonquin, as the English are 
in the Soudan, that the time-honored Christian industry 
of potting the savage and semi-civilized is not what it once 
was. — Army and Navy Journal. 


In Broad street buiUlinp, on a rainy night, 
Snug by his parlor fire, a gouty wight 

Sat all alone, with one hand rubbing 
His feet, rolled up in fleecy hose; 
With t'other he'd beneath his nose 

The Public Ledger, in whose columns grubbing, 
He noted all the sales of hops, 
Ships, shops, and slops; 
Gums, galls and groceries; ginger, gin. 
Tar. tallow, tumeric, turpentine and tin; 

\\ hen, lo! a decent personage in black 
Entered, and most politely said: 

" Your footman, sir, has gone his nightly track 
To the King's Head, 
And loft your door ajar; which I 
Observed in passing by, 

And thought it neighborly to give you notice." 
"Ten thousand thanks! how very few get, in time of 

Such kind attentions from a stranger! 

Assuredly, that fellow's throat is 
Doomed to a final drop at Newgate. 
He knows, too ^hc unconscionable elf! ) 
That there's no soul at home except myself." 
" Indeed," replied the stranger, looking grave, 
"Then he's a double knave; 
He knows that rogues and thieves by scores 
Nightly beset unguarded doors; 

And see how easily might one 
Of these domestic foes. 
Even beneath your very nose, 

Perform his knavish tricks: 

Enter your room, as I have done, 
Blow out your candles — thus — and thus — 

Pocket your silver candlesticks, 
* And walk off — thus." 

So said, so done; he made no more remark, 

Nor waited for replies, 
" But marched off w ith his prize, 
Leaving the gouty merchant in the dark. 

Horace Smith. 


Still will we trust, though earth seem dark and dreary, 
And the heart faint beneath His chastening rod; 

Though rough and steep our pathway, worn and weary, 
Still will we trust in God! 

Our eyes sec dimly till by faith anointed, 

And our blind choosing brings us grief and pain; 

Through Him alone who hath our way appointed 
We find our peace again. 

Choose for us, God! nor let our weak preferring 
Cheat our poor souls ot good Thou hast designed. 

Choose for us, God! Thy wisdom is unerring. 
And we are fools, and blind. 

So from our sky the night shall furl her shadows, 
And day pour gladness through his golden gates; 

Our rough path lead to flower-enamelled meadows, 
Where joy our coming waits. 

Let us press on in patient self-denial, 

Accept the hardship, shrink not from the loss; 

Our guerdon lies beyond the hour of trial, 
Our crown beyond the cross. 


In a valley, centuries ago, 

Grew a little fern-leaf, green and slender — 

Veining delicate, and fibers tender — 
Waving when the wind crept down so low. 

Rushes tall, and moss, and grass, grew round it; 

Playful sunbeams darted in and found it, 

Drops of dew stole in by night and crowned it; 
But no foot of man e'er trod that w : ay; 
Earth was young, and keeping holiday. 

Monster fishes swam the silent main; 

Stately forests waved their giant branches; 

Mountains hurled their snowy avalanches ; 
Mammoth creatures stalked across the plain; 

Nature reveled in grand mysteries. 

But the little fern was not of these, 

Did not number with^lhc hills and trees; 
Only grew and waved its wild sweet way. 
No one came to note it day by day. 

Earth one time put on a frolic mood: 

Heaved the rocks and changed the mighty motion 

Of the deep, strong currents of the ocean ; 
Moved the plain, and shook the haughty wood; 

Crushed the little fern in soft, moist clay, 

Covered it, and hid it safe away. 

Oh, the long, long centuries since that day! 
Oh, the changes! Oh, life's bitter cost, 
Since that little, useless fern was lost! 

Useless? Lost? There came a thoughtful man, 
Searching nature's secrets far and deep. 
From a fissure in a rocky steep 

He withdrew a stone, o'er which there ran 
Fairy pcncilings, a quaint design — 
Veinings, leafage, fibers clear and fine; 
And the fern's life lay in every line! 

So I think God hides some souls away, 

Sweetly to surprise us the last day. 

Mary L. Rolles Branch. 


A crack in the vase, and the roses all scattered; 

A snarl in the knitting, a hunt for the ball; 
The ink-bottle shattered, the carpet bespattered; 

Dirt-pics in the hall. 

The fruit on the table by tiny teeth bitten; 

Wee prints of wet fingers on window and door; 
Poor grandmamma's cap, as a frock for the kitten, 

Dragged down on the floor. 

Soft gurgles of laughter, a sunshine glancing, 
As somebody flits in and out like a bird; 

Strange accidents chancing wherever the dancing 
Small footsteps arc heard. 

"Come. Ethel, my baby, your gray eyes uplifting, 
Stand here by my side. Do you know the wee sprite 

Who into some ever-new mischief is drifting 
From morning till night? " 

A smile like a sunbeam, so coy and caressing — 
She smiles in my face like the witch that she is ; 

No need of more guessing. " My trouble, my blessing, 
Come give me a kiss! 


In crossing the Kushk river the Russians have un- 
doubtedly gone a steppe too far. 

How would it do to reinforce our navy in Central 
America with a couple of Erie canal-boats? 

" Flirtation is damnation," exc laims Talmage. This 
narrows the circle of the elect very materially. 

Some would-be postmasteis have an idea that if the 
office is to seek the man, it ought to be given a clew to 
work on. 

"No, Georgiana, chess-men are not sold at pawn 
shops, although many a man has had his ex-checker re- 
newed there." 

A man in Missouri last week shot his girl's mother, 
then the girl, then her brother, went home and fed his 
hogs, and then shot himself. 

It is understood that Vandcrbilt has refused to buy a 
star from the Viennese astronomers, because the whole 
outfit arc known as Astoroids. 

A lady writer says " Mormon wives are horrible cooks." 
This is not strange. It is a maxim, old as the hills, that 
" Too many cooks spoil the broth." 

A young man never thoroughly appreciates what big 
hands he has, and how clumsy his fingers are, until his 
young lady asks him to button her glove. 

"What shall be done with our calves?" asks an agri- 
cultural editor. Well, for one thing, we suggest that they 
be stuffed before they are exhibited on a bicycle. 

News from China fails to announce whether the 
French have stopped running yet or not. They don't 
seem to be having such a Tamsui thing of it after al). 

Mrs. .Spriggins can very well understand how a man 
can ride on a bicycle, but when it comes to " one o' 
them one-wheeled municipals, she's dumthundered." 

For seven years a mechanic made a circuit of half a 
mile twice per day rather than pass a powder-arsenal. 
The other day he learned that it had been empty for eight 
years ! 

A wit who was asked what he would rather be during 
the three stages of life, replied: "Till thirty a pretty 
woman ; till fifty a successful general ; the rest of my life 
a cardinal." 

Mark Twain's father thought his son would never 
amount to much, but the old gentleman never suspected 
that the boy would turn out really bad, and no doubt died 
comparatively happy. 

An Irishman lately landed was taken to see the cathe- 
dral. As he entered the magnificent building, bewildered 
by its beauty, he turned to his companion and said, 
" Phwy, Moike, it bates the devil." " That's the intintion, 

The insurrectionists in Central America were exceed- 
ingly vain over their destruction of Colon, until they dis- 
covered that Dean Alford, a meek professor of Christi- 
anity, knocked out one thousand commas in less than a 
week's revision of biblical text. 

Dr. Talmage preached in Brooklyn on the roller rink. 
It is reported that he entered upon his subject trippingly, 
glided from one phase of it to another with wonderful 
dexterity, and brought it to an exhaustive finish with his 
usual ground and lofty tumbling. 

A Dakota man went home the other day and found an 
empty lot where his house had been. He traced the 
building to another county, and discovering the man who 
had stolen it, had him arrested and fined. 1 Ic admits that 
his housekeeping was nearly a failure. 

These crazy spelling reformers are trying to persuade 
people to spell kiss with one s. The attempt will be a 
failure. The man who lifts a finger, so to speak, to shorten 
a kiss, will bring upon himself the hatred of the rising 
generation. The tendency is rather to add more esses. 

How dear to the heart arc the chestnuts of childhood — 

The bald-headed jokes that our infancy knew, 
The puns prehistoric we vented in mild mood, 

And ancient conundrums so feeble and few! 
What sweet recollections rise quickly, and work us 

High up to that pitch where the briny tears well, 
When we hear from the lips of the clown at the circus, 

The crutch-ridden chestnuts we all love to tell! 
The moss-covered chestnuts, the mildewed conundrums 

Andjokcs that were aged before Adam fell. 

Did it ever occur to you, gentle reader, what a vast 
amount of money is annually wasted on buttons? Look 
at the costumes of the men and women you meet in the 
street, and you will notice that not one button in fifty 
has any legitimate business in life. Statisticans have fig- 
ured up the yearly drink bill of our people, and the money 
wasted each twelvemonth upon tobacco, but they have, 
singularly enough, entirely neglected to recognize one of 
the most stupendous items of extravagance of an im- 
provident people. Only let the figures be brought home 
to the public in all their astounding immensity, and 
enough may be saved on buttons in two or three years to 
pay the national debt. 

" These are the times spoken of in the scriptures, 
Ichabod," said Hannah Smiley, solemnly, as she picked 
Up the stitches she had dropped. " Wars and rumors of 
wars, and — " "Same old times, Hannah," replied Icha- 
bod, cheerily. " It's always been so, ever since I was a 
boy. I don't see anything new in the situation." " Well, 
your're blind as an old bat, Ichabod Smiley. Why, En- 
gland's got the Soudan, and Russia at Pcnjdeh, and Riel 
in the Northwest, and — " " Yes, of course I know all 
that, but that doesn't signify. Kiel may Winning or 
two, the Mahdi may Souakim one, and the Russians may 
ravel the fringe out of the Afghan — " Just then the old 
lady came in with a wet cloth and bathed Ichabod's 
head, or there is no knowing where he would have 
brought up. 





The dramatic season which is about closing 
has shown two marked tendencies in the taste 
for amusements. First there is a demand, 
which holds much hope for the future, that the 
best class of plays shall be given in as complete 
and thorough a manner as possible, with due at- 
tention to the minor actors in the cast, accuracy 
of costumes and scenery, and an artistic blend- 
ing of all the details in a harmonious whole. 
The season has been an unusually bad une (or 
making money, but those managers who have 
presented plays of the higest order in this spirit 
have no reason to complain. Notable examples 
of this are Irving, whose prices have 
been the highest in the country, Booth, 
who has been adequately supported for the 
first time in years, Lawrence Harrett, Jeffer- 
son for a short season, and Margaret Mather, 
Of these Irving, whose performances have 
been the most complete, has had usually the 
largest houses. The success of the German 
operas, which have been given with a complete- 
ness never before seen in America, is another 
evidence that an increasing part of the public 
have become more thoroughly educated, and are 
determined to have the best or nothing. 

This tendency of the stage is most clearly 
manifested in the large cities. Dwellers in the 
provinces unfortunately have to contend with 
another public taste that is most discouraging. 
That is the craze for buffoonery and horse- 
play that too frequently degenerates into 
coarseness, and occasionally into indecency. 
The wisest men relish nonsense, it is true, but 
that, according to the old saw, is "a little non- 
sense now and then." What the stage has 
been giving us recently is unrelieved non- 
sense continually, and coarse nonsense at 
that. There has sprung up in the last two 
or three seasons, more particularly the season 
just closing, a dense mushroom growth of 
"musical comedies," "burlesque comedies." 
"farce comedies "and what not, which are de- 
signed solely to afford a frame for the special 
accomplishments of the performers engaged 
in them — singing, dancing, athletics, or phys- 
ical beauty; and each company is made up to 
include as many of these attractions as possible. 
These pieces make no pretense to illustratechar- 
acter, and they have no plots; they are sim- 
ply amplifications of the old variety stage 
"sketches," that occupied twenty minutes or 
half an hour, and were amusing and well enough 
for their time and place, into "plays" that shall 
occupy the required two hours and a half for an 
evening's entertainment. They have no value 
whatever except for the temporary amusement 
they create. Laughter is good and healthful 
when it is not obtained at the sacrifice of refine- 
ment or purity, but in these " plays " it is always 
gained at the loss of one of these, and sometimes 
of both. The pieces are almost without excep- 
tion coarsening. They arc all slangy; they are 
filled with "gags," and their incidents are 
violent rough-and-tumble " business," and low 
buffoonery. It is not a high order of amusement 
to see a man wrap himself in a horse-blanket 
for an ulster, and put on two mulls for cuffs, 
or to see a man escape from a chimney where 
he had lieen hidden, and run up the stage 
with his coat-tails on fire; but these are elegan- 
cies compared with many things thai have Been 
received with uproarious laughter night after 
night at the opera house this winter. The first 
pieces of this kind current years ago were amus- 
ing and pretty for an occasional evening. The 
recent ones can only be amusing to tastes debased 
by a long course of such diet, and they are of- 
fered almost every week in the season all over the 

The remedy for the evil of bad plays is like 
that of bad books, discrimination and care. 
There are plays that improve and educate, and 
those which innocently amuse, but indiscrimin- 
ate theater-going is perhaps more risky than in- 
discriminate novel-reading. Parents surely 
should be careful how they send or accompany 
their children into the presence of society on the 
stage, which they would be horrified to have 
them enter in real life, even when the object is to 
create a distinctly moral effect ; how much more 
should they avoid it when the play and the actors 
have no object except to oiler vulgarity, impro- 
priety, and vice as mere subjects for amusement. 
That no discrimination is exercised against them 
is shown by the large size and good character of 
the audiences which these entertainments at- 
tract. If they are allowed to go without warn- 
ing it is to be expected that thoughtless young 
people will enjoy the lively pranks and stirring 
music, and will consider the coarseness at whicn 
their elders laugh smart and funny. — Sf>> ing/ield 

Mr. Anthony M. Kciley, our new Minister to 
Italy, does not take back his regrets, expressed 
some years ago, that King A ictor Emanuel 
should have made Home the capital of Italy, and 
deprived the Pone of his civil dominion there. 
" My position," he said recently at a dinner in 
Richmond, Virginia, "was founded on a funda- 
mental axiom of public law, that the invasion of 
the territory of a peaceful neighbor, and the sub- 
version of his authority, constitute a violation of 
the rights of that sovereign. Hut as the people 
of Italy have acquiesced in the change, the 
change is to be accepted. I am to-day, as are 
millionsof my Southern countrymen, recognizing 
with fullest loyalty the authority of a govern- 
ment over my own state, founded on what I con- 
sidered a gross and bloody violation of public 
rights, but an authority tixed and made unalter- 
ably secure in the acquiescence of the people." 


'I'hc American Homeopathic has an article on 
the treatment of General Grant by the allopaths, 
in which it says : 

"General Washington was murdered by his 
medical attendants; but at least they were he- 
roically— too heroically— endeavoring to extin- 
guish the disease. Their brutality was of the 
active sort, and in purpose commendable, though 
disastrous in result. General Garfield was mal- 
treated for months, under an error of diagnosis, 
and at last escaped beyond the reach of his emi- 
nent torturers. Here, also, there was much 
medical heroism and activity displayed, albeit 
misdirected. Other illustrious patients have 
suffered from eminence in the profession; but 
General Grant seems reserved as a shining ex- 
ample of the cold-blooded expectancy. To him 
the little group of eminence have nothing to offer 
but a diagnosis. For him they propose no relief 
but in the grave. Ignoring the only source of 
therapeutic salvation, they gather round his bed- 
side to observe his unaided struggle. The fiat 
has gone forth that nothing can be done; and 
nothing will be permitted to be done. Those 
who question such a decision are quacks and 
cranks; but who ought not to be proud of such 
a designation from such a source? Scholarly, 
refined, cultured, earnest gentlemen as they are, 
of what avail are all these good qualities in the 
presence of such therapeutic bankruptcy? On 
the contrary, while so-called scientific medicine 
is to the fore, well may the daily papers announce 
in startling headlines, 'A Had Day for General 
Grant — Seven Doctors in Consultation.'" 

Yes, the hero of Appomattox is dying ! 

He who knew no fear in war knows no fear in 
suffering. His quiet fortitude wins universal 

President Lincoln, in visiting a hospital dur- 
ing the late war, noticed a poor Confederate boy, 
mortally wounded. With his native tenderness 
he put his arms around his neck in sympathy. 
The sight melted all observers to tears. 

The heart of the American people in like man- 
ner bleeds for Grant, the silent sufferer. It 
would have him get well, by any effective means. 

His physicians say he cannot recover. They 
fill him with anodynes, but despite their favor- 
able bulletins he is daily growing worse. 

A specialist who has won reputation in the 
treatment of cancer visits his bedside. The op- 
position he encounters from the attending phy- 
sicians brings painfully to mind the story of the 
dog in the manger. 

And General Grant perhaps must die because 
of this intolerance! Is it possible that there is 
no hope of cure outside of the medical profession? 


For years medical men insisted that certain 
fevers were incurable, but Chincona proved the 
contrary. For centuries they have protested 
that certain renal disorders were incurable, and 
yet a special preparation has cured, and perma- 
nently curedj the very worst cases. 

Why may it not be possible in like manner to 
cure a case of cancer? B. F. Larabee, of Boston, 
was doomed to death by many eminent Boston 
physicians; J. B. Henion, M. D., of Rochester, 
New York, was given up by the best doctors of 
all schools; Elder J. S. Prescott, of Cleveland, 
Ohio, was gravely informed by them that he 
could not live; and yet these men, and thousands 
like them, have been cured, and cured permanent- 
ly, of serious kidney disorders by a remedy not 
officially known to the code. 

What has been done can be done again. 

General Anson Stager died of Hright's disease 
in Chicago last week. "Joc"Goss, the Boston 
pugilist, died of it. Hundreds of thousands of 
people perish of it every year while in their doc- 
tors' hands. The cause of death may be called 
blood poisoning, paralysis, heart-disease, con- 
vulsions, apoplexy, pneumonia, or some other 
common ailment, but the real difficulty is in the 
kidneys. Physicians know it, but they conceal 
the fact from their patients, realizing their in- 
ability to cure by any "authorized" means. 
The remedy that cured Larabee and Henion and 
Prescott (t. e., Warner's Safe Cure) is a special 
independent discovery. Its record entitles it to 
recognition, and it gets it from intelligent people. 
Its manufacturers nave an unsullied reputation, 
and arc entitled to as great consideration as any 
school of phvsicians. 

Professor R. A. Gunn, M. I)., Dean of the 
United States Medical College of New York 
City, rises above professional prejudice, and on 
its |>ersonally proved merits alone gives it several 
pages of the warmest commendation in his pub- 
lished works — the only instance on record of a 
high professional indorsement of such a prepara- 

The unprejudiced jieoplc do not want General 
Grant to die. If there is in all nature or any- 
where in the world a remedy or a man able to 
cure his cancer, give them a chance. 

Will they do it? 



Is it too often the case that many excellent 
physicians who are greatly devoted to the code 
would prefer that their patients should die rather 
than that they should recover health by the use 
of any remedy not recognized under their code? 

Mrs. Theodore Tilton lives with her aged 
mother, Mrs. Morse, on Pacific street, in Brook- 
lyn, in comfort and quiet. Ever since the re- 
markable scandal trial she has lived in the same 
way. At no time has she inhabited a garret, 
taken in sewing for a living or lived in any of 
the poor ways rumor frequently declared she did. 
Mrs. Morse, her mother, is the wife of the 
veteran Judge Morse, one of the first presidents 
of the Union Ferry Company, and now a retired 
honored member of the same wealthy corpora- 




No priming matter on the Cigarette proper. Each Ci- 
garette is KMuossEP with the brand. 



223-225 Battery Street. • 




The IVIeci ianics' Pavilion 

OH TIM: tiVKMSUS OF MAV 28th, 39tb, 80th, JTJHE 1st and 3d 

AMI ON Till' AFTEBROOHS OF MAY 30th ami .11 HE :s.l 



THE PROGRAMMES will embrace the wide*! range of composition. Two will he devoted entirely to works 
by WAGNER, one to works by French Composers, one to Miscellaneous, and the Two Matinees to the Young 
People's Popular Concert Programmes, which have been suc'h a successful feature of Mr. Thomas's work in New 
York during the past season. The Concerts will be under the personal direction of 


Who will bring from New York his 

And the following Eminent Vocalists: 


MISS EMMA JUCH, s„,,ra..., ; 



MR. MAX HEINRICH, iiasso; 



COURT SINGER FROM THE IMPERIAL OPERA, VIENNA. (Especially engaged by Mr. Thomas for 

his Concerts in San Francisco.) 

TWO SPECIAL CHORUSES of male and female voices are being trained under the direction of MR, 

PROFESSOR JOSEPH ROECKEL has prepared a selected chorus of voices, which will appear in the French 


Ooultl<> Season Tit-koto, entitling tin- holder to Two K«K>rvod Souls for parli of 

tlie Seven Concerts $25 OO 

Private Boxes, seating six Persons (Season) $100 00 

(All Tickets Transferable.) 

tame Diagrams for Choice of Sots will be open MONDAY, MAY nth, at the Music Stores of SHER- 

MTTbc Sale of Season Tickets to the general public begins tne following morning (TUESDAY') at same place. 

Keservetl Seats, Single Concern! (According to Location $1 00, $2 00. $:t 00 

ItOX Seals, Single Coneerta (According to Location) ,$4 00, $."> (Ill 

Sale of Reserved Seats for Single Concerts begins MONDAY, May i8lh. 

M:\MOIK E. I 'M M . Manager Thomas Concerto, Occidental Hotel. 


Marcus M. Henry Business Manager 




On Friday Evening and Saturday Matinee, 
.May I5tn ami 16th, 1886, 

In aid of the funds of 


Mozart's Elegant Chcf-d'fcuvre, 


Will he presented with a cast of Ladies and Gentlemen 

who have kindly volunteered their services. 
The Ensemble will number Over One Hundred. Large 

Chorus and Grand Orchestra. 
Conductor Siigiior Enrico Sorxe 

Boxes $io, $12.50, $15 and $ro. Reserved Seats, in 
Orchestra, Parquet and Dress Circle, $1.50. 

The ticket olVice will be opened at M.Gray's Music 
Store, 306 Post street, on Monday, May nth, at 9 a. m., 
and continue daily until 5 p. m. 


Eddv Street, Near Market. 
KREI.I.MG BROS Sole Proprietors and Managers 

And until further notice, Verdi's Beautiful Grand Opera, 



Admission ;r> vttt. Kewrved Seats .50 ets 

Hat Store on this Coast, 
332-336 KEAENY ST., 

Bet. Bueh and Pine StB., San Francisco. 

Braneli 1212-1214 Market, above Taylor. 

Send for Illustrated Catalogue. Mailed free. 





Do not fail to see our well selected stock of 
New Spring ami Summer Htyles 




W. V* MOM At. I I A CO., 

131, 313, 315 and 317 Market street, San Francisco. 


AL. HAVMAN Lesser and Manages 

Every Evening, excepting Sunday. 

Production of Frank Harvey's Drama, 


The cast cmbracinc the entire strength of Mauhury & 
Overton's Dramatic Company. 

Monday Evening, May nth MAY BLOSSOM 


AJ-. HAVMAN Lessee and Manager 

The Distinguished Comedian, 


Supported by Dion G. Boucicault and Nina Boucicault, 
and an Excellent Company, in 




M. B. LEAVITT Lessee and Proprietor. 

C. P. HALL Manager. 

Great Success of the eminent Author and Actor, 


In his New Play, 


Monday Evening.? PECK'S BAD BOY 


F. W. STECHHAN Manager 

An Instantaneous Hit. 


The Cheerful Comedian, in Gunter's successful Melo- 
dramatic Comedy, 




Saturday ami Sunday, May UCh and totli. 









Music, Singing, Dancing, Acrobatic Feats, 
And Grand Orchestral Concerts. 



AT the 

S. W. cor. Mason and Eddy Sts. 
Open Dally from 9 A. to 11 P. M- 




Mr. John A. Stevens produced for the last 
week of his engagement at the Bush Street, In 
the Dark. As announced last week, this was its 
first public presentation. It was written by 
himself, like the others which he has produced 
here. There is a family likeness, or rather a family 
unlikeliness, among them all ; but without unlike- 
liness where were melodrama? All that we can 
reasonably demand is that the coincidences and 
cross-purposes, in themselves improbable, shall 
be made to appear at least possible. In the 
Dark meets this requirement in a greater degree 
than either of the two plays that have preceded 
it. Mr. Stevens himself has in "Dr. Laird" a 
part in which generous kindness and magna- 
nimity do not assume that highly melodramatic 
coloring that so easily takes on the hue of bur- 
lesque. Mr. Stevens has one gift which, while 
in no way a credit to him as an artist, is yet one 
for which he should be truly grateful — he looks 
the line of characters which he always writes out 
for himself. As a subject for criticism, this is, by 
convention, a tabooed one; as a matter of fact, it 
is much more important than is generally al- 
lowed. Booth had a long start of all other 
Hamlets by the gift of nature, which made him 
look as we think that magnificent dreamer 
should look. When Billy Birch said regarding 
the lanky, long-armed George Coes, "You're a 
pretty looking 'Theodore,'" he hit the nail on 
the head. If there were not something in this 
evident suiting of names and characters to per- 
sonal appearance, the foregoing minstrel sar- 
casm would never have convulsed an audience 
with its drollery. And so it is that Mr. Stev- 
ens's plays seem not, as he plays them, the wild 
phantasmagoria of lurid unrealities that they are 
when silted down. And where there are such 
heavy draughts on the imagination, we have a 
right to demand all the help that the satisfac- 
tion of the eye can give us. Miss Anna Boyle 
as "May," a blind street-singer, was not so 
good an illustration of this principle; but here 
it was the ear of the audience that refused its suf- 
frage. Her few attempts at a warble made the 
constant allusions to her heavenly voice a dread- 
ful strain on the public credulity; but otherwise 
the character was very creditably and satisfac- 
torily sustained. "Ralph M'Kenna," by Hud- 
son Liston, was a good piece of character acting, 
and all the parts were well taken. 

Mr. Dion Boucicault opened a short season at 
the California with the ever popular Colleen 
Bawn. The play, its plot, situations and char- 
acters, are so perfectly familiar that mention is 
almost superfluous. It is as well known as the 
Lady of Lyons, Richelieu, and others of that ilk, 
which have come to be considered dramatic clas- 
sics, and it so holds its own with the public as 
to warrant it a place among the few modern 
plays which may hope to become "classic "in 
the lapse of time. Of Mr. Boucicault's " Myles- 
na-Coppaleen " criticism at this day is almost an 
impertinence. To say that it was presented at 
the California as well as heretofore by Mr. Bou- 
cicault, is all that is necessary. The laws of 
heredity seem to obtain in reference to dramatic 
genius more than in any other line of mentality, 
and Dion G. and Miss Nina Boucicault seem 
likely to illustrate this truth. The former gave 
an excellent rendering of "Danny Mann," the 
death scene recalling some of the best who have 
made this character a specialty. Miss Nina, as 
the " Colleen Bawn," was very sweet and pleas- 
ing, though of course not up to the greater exi- 
gencies of the part. Mr. Boucicault has a good 
company, all of whom are so good in their re- 
spective parts as to merit mention. The evi- 
dences of close and careful supervision were ap- 
parent throughout the entire performance. The 
water scene was particularly well managed, and 
free from the usual green-baize effects. There is 
a noticeable absence of the usual dull thud with 
which drowning on the stage is ordinarily accom- 
plished, the bottom of the water not being so 
palpably wooden as that which often brings the 
imagination back to a realization of stage effects. 
The rescue of the "Colleen Bawn " by " Myles- 
na-Coppaleen " is beautiful and realistic. 

The Standard is once more the temple of fun. 
And such fun! The houses full to overflowing 
that have greeted C. B. Bishop in Strictly Busi- 
ness prove the predilection for that which causes 
laughter over the tearful and baleful excitement 
of melodrama. The overworked souls who find 
a relaxation in the evening at the theater do not 
seek the mournful and the tragic; there is too 
much of it woven in with the somber fabric of 
every-day life. They want laughter. And 
though that may be "as the crackling of thorns 
under a pot," it is a cheerful sort of crackle, and 
doesn't keep the pot from boiling, either. The 
plot which runs through this absurd comedy 
serves to give a certain interest, though the up- 
roarious fun would probably be no whit the less 
enjoyable if all the characters were hoist by a 
nihilistic petard at the end of the fifth act. 
"Philkins," the drummer, is a strictly stage 
American, who slaps Russian princes on the 
back, uses Yankee oaths, invites the Czar to 
dine on potted meats, and to take " pot-luck '' 
with him, and in every way sets the convention- 
alities at defiance in the customary style. But 
we have come to recognize and laugh at this indi. 
vidual, and to accept him as a " type" just as we 
do the big plaid of the British trouser, and the 

stony stare of the British eye-glass. Types of 
what, no one knows. To the average English- 
man or American they are as entirely alien as 
would be a Feejee or an Esquimaux; but they 
are funny — at least when C. B, Bishop is the 
American in Strictly Business. "Charley" 
Bishop as "Achille de Lyonnais," chief cook of 
the Jockey Club, is a delightful surprise to those 
who saw him in Twins . He has evidently cap- 
tured the youthful contingent, who show their 
sense of the credit done them by the lively per- 
formance of one of their order, in enthusiastic 
recalls and boisterous applause. And the elders 
are by no means backward in their appreciation. 
Contrary to custom in regard to stage villains, 
Mr. Theodore Roberts as a death-dealing Nihilist 
made himself so entirely acceptable a villain that 
the audience rejoiced at not being called on to 
part with him till the last act. 

Mrs. F. M. Bates, Mr. James Carden, and 
Miss Louise Calvert were especially happy in 
their various roles. Miss Tittel would be mak- 
ing good progress as an actress but for one 
grave defect, which, if indulged in, will be a fatal 
bar to her success — a vicious affectation in pro- 
nouncing the President's English. 

At the Baldwin Woman Against Woman has 
been played to the ordinary houses. Monday, 
May nth, will see the first presentation of May 
Blossom. Though this play, by David Belasco, 
formerly of San Francisco, has been a great suc- 
cess at the East, the management are aware that 
in regard to its indorsement by the San Fran- 
cisco public, it must depend wholly upon its 
own merits. The plot of the play has been 
worked up into a very readable little novelette 
by Margaret Lee. The situations and characters 
are wholly American. The time is the opening 
of the Civil War; its scene of action is a small 
fishing village near Hampton Roads. "Tom 
Blossom " is a jovial fisherman with one only 
daughter, "May," who is brought up with the 
tenderest care by himself and his maiden sister, 
" Miss Deborah." " May " has two sweethearts, 
"Steve Harland," a fisher lad, and "Richard 
Ashcroft," ostensibly the boss ol the fisheries, 
but in truth a Confederate spy. He is May's 
choice, but on the very day of their engage- 
ment is arrested, only "Steve" knowing the 
cause of his sudden disappearance. The latter, 
instead of conveying "Richard's" messages, 
preserves silence, and on " Richard's " protracted 
and unexplained absence " May"and " Steve" are 
married. She is a happy and contented wife, but 
her husband is always haunted by his treachery. 
At last "Richard," having escaped from a Fed- 
eral prison, returns, and a passionate scene en- 
sues between the former lovers, ending in " May " 
upbraiding " Steve " for his perfidy, and bidding 
him leave her forever. He is preparing to go 
when the sad household is burst in upon by a 
merry band of neighbors, who have come to 
surprise the young couple on their wedding 
anniversary. This gives rise to some of the 
most stirring and pathetic action of the play— 
the two concealing their grief and joining in the 
merriment with breaking hearts and hidden 
sighs. " Steve," after many years' separation 
from his wife, returns, and they are reconciled, 
partly by the intervention of ^heir child. 

A very amusing thread of comedy is woven 
into the play by the bashful courtship of the 
" Reverend Jeremy Bartlett," who has been 
in love with "Miss Deborah" for about forty 
years, and finally plucks up courage to ask her 
to marry him — wisely insuring himself little 
"leisure for repentance." If the play is equal 
to the interest of the little story, it must make a 
genuine success. 

The Tivoli has been giving l.a Traviata in its 
usual creditable manner. Miss Leigjiton's sweet 
and sympathetic voice and graceful presence 
give effect to the dramatic and pathetic role of 
" Violetta." This lady, so long connected with 
the Tivoli, is one of the most reliable and popu- 
lar of the many who have graced its stage. , 

The Fountain has an unusually excellent vari- 
ety performance, the names of many of its per- 
formers having appealed as attractions where an 
admission fee is charged. 

At Woodward's Garden the Saturday and 
Sunday performances are extremely interesting 
and amusing. The management is constantly 
adding new attractions, and seem determined 
to make the place the leading resort for children 
and families. 


San Francisco is in that delightful state of 
excited expectancy that preludes any great de- 
viation from the ordinary march of events. The 
long-talkcd-of Thomas concerts are so near a 
realization that they have reached the tangi- 
bility of box-sheet and season tickets. On 
Monday, May nth, the diagrams will be open 
for choice of seats to subscribers only. On 
Tuesday, May 12th, commences the sale of sea- 
son tickets. 

Two years have passed since the last season 
of Thomas concerts was held at the Pavilion, 
and there are those who are still lamenting that, 
through neglect or absence, or some cause, they 
had missed this great musical instruction and 
entertainment. There is a large class who al- 
ways manage to have this regret after they have 
let a great and obtainable pleasure go by. It is 
not likely that in this case the number will be 
so large as usual. Still it is well to warn the 
dilatory that Tuesday is the best time for obtain- 

ing choice seats with their season tickets. 
Whoever attends one of these concerts will be 
very certain to feel just as anxious for the next, 
and a season ticket is not only a saving in 
money cost, but also of worry and bother in 
securing scats. A season ticket can be used by 
different members of a family, and is in every 
way as individually available as an equivalent 
number of single tickets, and at less cost. 

There are to be two concerts devoted wholly 
to the exposition of Wagner's music. The con- 
troversy now going on as to the coming suprem- 
acy of Wagnerian music, leads the general public 
lie as well as the exclusively musical to desire to 
hear as much as possible of this composer. A per- 
sonal knowledge of Wagner's music has become 
an actual necessity to those who would take an 
intelligent part in the social converse of to-day. A 
chorus of about fifty male voices will give the 
"Pilgrims' Chorus" from Tannhiiuser, and the 
same number of female throats will vocalize the 
" Spinning Chorus " from The Flying Dutchman 
— both under the direction of Mr. David Loring. 

There will be a French night, one feature of 
which will be the rendering of the grand " Mar-" 
sellaise " by Madame Fursch-Madi, assisted by a 
vocal society under the lead of Professor Jbseph 
Roeckel, of this city. One evening will be de- 
voted to the works of Spanish composers, a line 
of fascinating music with which we are in many 
respects unfamiliar. 

But the great attraction of the coming festival 
is in the names of the distinguished singers, 
most of whom will be heard for the first time in 
San Francisco. Frau Matcrna, the greatest of 
living exponents of Wagner's leading roles, is 
by herself sufficient to excite the enthusiastic 
anticipation of San Francisco. Like all com- 
paratively isolated communities, we are inclined 
to think a great deal of ourselves; and Mr. 
Thomas has paid us a compliment, which our 
somewhat overgrown local patriotism will not 
fail to appreciate, in bringing this great artiste 
to us alone among all the cities included in his 
present tour. Miss Emma Juch is a soprano 
who has taken a very high place among concert 
singers. Mr. Winch is a "robust" tenor of 
great power. Miss Clapper has been named as 
the probable successor to the laurels of Louise 
Cary as a powerful and sympathetic contralto; 
and Mr. Max Heinrich is a basso who is said to 
be equally at home in opera, oratorio, German 
song, or ballad singing. 

With such attractions, and with Mr. Thomas's 
well-known skill in organizing a company of 
this kind, there can be no question that the com- 
ing Thomas concert season will be one long re- 
membered with pleasure by both audiences and 
management . 

Strauss's Die Fledermaus at the Tivoli next 

At the Bush Street next week, Atkinson's 
Comedy company in Peck's Bad Boy. 

Fryer's Equescttrriculum is still attracting 
crowds at the Wigwam. It will continue this 

By special request, The Wages oj Sin will be 
given at the Baldwin this (Saturday) and Sunday 

C. B. Bishop will continue to attend to 
Strictly Business at the Standard during the 
coming week. 

The Shaugraun at the California next week, 
after which a new play by Dion Boucicault, 
called The Jilt. 

The Battle of Waterloo continues to be 
"fought over again " by the delighted visitors to 
the Panorama building on Eddy street. 

It is stated that the direct cause of Mme. Ju- 
dic's recent illness was the "mental strain im- 
posed upon her by the preparation of her ward- 

The booking for the first night of May Blos- 
som at the Baldwin is of a decidedly fashionable 
character, theater-parties having seldom been so 

The New York Dramatic News speaks of Miss 
Hclcne Dauvray as "bright, careful, and giving 
much promise for the future," but her play, 
Mona, as " trash." 


The concert of the talented young violinists, 
the Joran sisters, assisted by several of our 
local musical artists, showed considerable im- 
provement in these promising artists since their 
last appearance in public. An appreciative 
audience was on hand to encourage the develop- 
ment of the really remarkable jnvenile talent 
displayed by these youthful sisters.- 

A meeting of ladies and gentlemen interested 
in the organization of an oratorio society was 
called to meet in Parlor A, Palace Hotel, Fri- 
day evening, May 8th. The call is signed by 
Ira P. Rankin, Horace Davis, Samuel D. 
Mayer, Mines. Baker, Thibault, Carmichael- 
Carr, and others. A full account of the object 
of the meeting will be found elsewhere. 

Mr. Otto Bcndix, the well-known pianist, will 
visit San Francisco shortly, intending to make 
it his future home. Mr. Bendix has enjoyed a 
very fine reputation both as an artist and 
teacher, having been for a number of years the 
principal instructor at the Royal Conservatory 
in Copenhagen, and latterly in the New En- 

gland Conservatory of Music in Boston. He 
should receive a hearty welcome from all lov 
of music. 

A very pleasant musical entertainment v, 
given on Thursday evening at Irving Hall, in ai^ 
of the Earnest Workers' Society, an association 
of young ladies who are doing good among the 
poor in a quiet, unobtrusive way that is truest 
charity. The following professional and ama- 
teur musicians took part in the entertainment: 
Mrs. Blake- Alverson, Misses Belle Livingston 
and Ella Lawrie, Messrs. Rosewald, Mansleldt, 
Harrison and Bennett. 

The Marriage of Figaro, to be given bySignor 
Campobcllo's Amateur Operatic Society, May 
15th and 16th, at the Grand Opera House, is a 
subject of delightful anticipation to all who 
cither enjoy a high order of music, or who wish 
to see such music cultivated among us. The 
ticket office will open at M. Gray's, 206 Post 
street, Monday morning, May nth. A large 
chorus of amateur ladies and gentlemen, and a 
fine orchestra under the direction of Signor 
Enrico Sorge, will assist in the production of 
this great work. Those who attend will have 
the satisfaction of an exquisite pleasure, while 
at the same time giving encouragement to the 
development of local taste and talent. 


Money cheap. Uncle Jacobs, 613 Pacific st. 

Take breakfast or lunch at Swain's, 213 Sutter. 

Drs. Darrin, magnetic physicians, 113 
Stockton street. Examination free. 

Df.LIGHTFUL weather for ladies and children 
to visit the Park. Refreshments at the Casino. 

A. W. MYER repairs fine and complicated 
watches and clocks, and warrants satisfaction. 
1014 Market street, opposite Fifth. 

All the members of the Chicago Base-ball 
Club have had the fever and ague. They call 
themselves the Qui-o. 

Liszt's memoirs, which are to be published 
shortly, will be very voluminous, requiring six 
volumes. It is to be hoped he has exhaustively 
considered the Wagner era, for no living musi- 
cian is so competent to speak concerning it. 

The organ made for the cathedral built at 
Gorden City, by Mrs. A. T. Stewart, is said to 
te the largest in the world, having 1 15 stops and 
7,252 pipes. Its cost was $100,000. 1 he bellows 
are inflated by stean. -power, and chimes are lung 
by an electric arrangement controlled by the or- 

" Railroad property is going to smash ! " cries 
the Wall street bear. Raise the switchmen's 
wages. Stop running express trains with hand- 
me-down-watches. This idea of setting the sun 
and moon by a chronometer that comes with 
boys' suits must be abandoned anyway. A good 
watch ought to keep going between stations — as 
long as the cars move, at least.— Current. 

Tlie Thomas Festival Concerts. 

The diagram of the Pavilion, under the new 
and improved arrangement of seats and boxes 
for the seven Festival Concerts to begin May 
28th, will be opened to subscribers on Monday 
next, at nine o'clock a. m., at the music stores 
of M. Gray and Sherman, Clay & Co., at cither 
ol which places they may select their seats and 
boxes for the season, the general public having 
the opportunity to do so on and after Tuesday. 
It is expected that the well-known excellence of 
the Thomas programmes, the fact that l' rau Ma- 
tcrna will sing at every concert, and the great 
reduction in price, will lead to a large sale of 
boxes and seats for the whole season. On Mon- 
day following. May 18th, the sale of seats for 
single concerts will begin, the detailed pro- 
grammes having by that time been announced. 
Mr. Loring and Professor Roeckel are beginning 
their rehearsals with the selected voices which 
are to contribute to the completeness of the 
" Marseilles," and of the scenes from The Flying 
Dutchman and Tanti Abuser, great interest be- 
ing shown in the work by our best amateur 
singers. We look for a season even more enjoy- 
able and memorable than that of two years ago. 

\ \<'\i Oratorio s<><i«i>. 

Musical taste and culture in this city really 
seem to be in a rapid state of development. The 
organization of a permanent society for the pro- 
duction of oratorios has been perfected by Mr. 
|. H. Rosewald, the well-known conductor, and 
the plan meets with the approval and most cor- 
dial support of the best professional and amateur 
talent of the city. The object of the society is 
to produce the best oratorios of the old masters, 
with full orchestral accompaniment, and so 
place this city on an equal fooling, musically, 
with its sister cities— New York, Boston, Phila- 
delphia and Baltimore, where similar organiza- 
tions have been in successful existence for many 
years past. The movement is seconded by such 
people as Mr. Ira P. Rankin, Mr. lb-race Davis, 
Mr. Sam 1). Mayer, Mrs Mall McAllister, Miss 
Sara Thibault, Mrs. Ellen Stone Baker, Mrs. 
Carmichael-Carr, and many others whose sup- 
port guarantees a grand musical success for the 
undertaking. The society is intended to con- 
solidate all minor societies and the respective 
church choirs under one head, and thus form a 
grand musical body. The plan is to have two 
classes of members, acting and contributing, 
whose yearly dues, coupled with the revenue to 
be derived from the sale of tickets at the respect- 
ive performances, will not only cover the cur- 
rent expenses, but also create a bind that can 
ultimately be used in instituting grand musical 
May festivals, as is the case in eastern cities. 
The object is a good one, in the success of which 
the citizens in general should be more or less 



A little east of the narrow tract now in dispute between 
Russia and Afghanistan is that extensive protuberance 
called by the natives The Pamir, or The Roof of the 
Woild. This wonderful plateau, furrowed by deep val- 
leys, through which flow the head streams of great rivers, 
is the loftiest in the world, and stretches away tor some 
hundreds of miles from 10,000 to 15,000 feet above the sea. 
It is an elevated isthmus, connecting those almost im- 
passable mountain systems of Asia, the Thian Shan and 
Altai, on the north, with the Hindoo Koosh and Hima- 
layas, on the south. Here history places the cradle of the 
European races. Here lived our Aryan forefathers, who, 
leaving the Pamir slo|>es, followed great rivers westward, 
and finally pastured their herds in Europe. Hither are 
returning now their descendants, the Slavs and Anglo- 
Saxons, sooner or later to contend for the supremacy of 
Asia, upon the historic ground from which their primitive 
progenitors are believed to have migrated. 

Though Peter the Great dreamed of extending Russia's 
power far beyond the Caspian, it was not greed of con- 
quest or commerce, but the need of defending herself 
against barbarous neighbors across the Ural, that first 
turned Russia toward Centra;] Asia. Ivan III put an end 
to the terrible Tartar invasions that for centuries wasted 
half of Russia and laid its chief cities in ashes. But his 
successors did not free Russia from the pest of pillaging 
Kirghiz and Turcoman tribes until they established the 
Muscovite power in the large territory between the Ural 
river and the Aral sea. They sank wells in the Ust Urt 
plateau to facilitate the operations of their army, marched 
against the turbulent Kirghiz, and after several hard cam- 
paigns they subdued these 2,000,000 nomads, who for 
over twenty years have paid their conquerors, without a 
murmur, their annual tax of three roubles a tent. 

Beyond the Kirghiz, steppes that bordered Russia 
stretched far eastward across the desert two belts of ver- 
dure, through which flow two great rivers, the ancient 
Oxus and the Taxartes, now known as the Amu-Daria 
and the Syr-Paria. The one rising on the southern and 
the other on the northern slopes of the Pamir, had for 
ages distributed over their banks alluvium borne on rapid 
tides from their headwaters, creating long and continu- 
ous oases in the midst of the most desolate desert of the 
world. Here were rich lands and populous and half-civil- 
ized nations. Here were the routes to inner Asia, cara- 
van roads that led to China, the highways over which 
great camel trails from Bokhara had for many years 
borne to Orenburg and Astrakhan their loads of cotton, 
silk, skins, and shagreen leather, to exchange for Russian 
hardware, chintz, and guns. Here was a chance for vast 
expansion of Muscovite power and crtmmerce. Russia's 
motive was no longer self-protection, but the subjugation 
of the khanates of Turkestan and the extension of 

Her expedition against Khiva in 1839 was disastrous. 
The bitter cold of the Ust Urt plateau ruined Perowski's 
army. Russia, repulsed in her attempt to acquire the 
Oxus, turned to the Syr-Daria. After she planted her 
foot upon that river her forward march was slow, steady, 
and persistent. Ilerlineof forts along the left bank of 
the river lengthened year by year. She made the river 
her ally in her warfare upon the khanates. Twelve years 
after the first Russian gun was leveled at the walls of the 
first town in Khokand, this rich kh.mate, including its 
metropolis, Tashkend, became the Russian province of 
Ferghana. Then Bokhara, after a bitter struggle, lost its 
independence. Two of the three khanates of Turkestan 
were now gained, the Syr-Daria, from , its mouth t» its 
sources, was a Russian stream, and the Muscovite arms 
were once more turned toward the Oxus. General 
Kaufmann's attack upon Khiva was crowned with suc- 
cess. The khanate was added to the Russian conquests 
in Turkestan, and the Oxus passed into Russia's con- 

What are the countries and people whom Russia has 
conquered, at terrible cost and after many years of bitter 
warfare? The three khanates are estimated to contain 
from 5,000,000 to 6,000,000 peonle. Vambery says that 
in the richness of their soil and in the variety of their 
productions, it would be difficult to find in Europe a 
territory that would surpass the oasis countries of Turke- 
stan. Bokhara, ancient seat of Mohammedan learning, 
still attracts thousands of students from India, Afghan- 
istan, Cashmere and China. The town has 175 mosques, 
and when Yambery visited it, 5,000 students were study- 
ing theology, logic, and philosophy in its eighty colleges. 
The chief cities of the Khokand oasis — Tashkend, Tehem- 
kent, Khodjend, and others — are scattered along the 
rich valley of the Syr-Daria. Several thousand Russian 
and Cossack peasants have, with governmental assistance, 
become tillers of the soil near Tashkend and Samarcand. 
Tashkend has 100,000 population, thirteen inns, sixteen 
colleges, and many mosques, and its exports and imports 
in 1878 amounted to $24,000,000. The Khivan oasis, 
though kept within narrow limits by the surrounding 
desert, is large and rich enough to support a populace of 
about 1,000,000 people. Since Russia conquered Kho- 
kand she has placed upon the Syr-Daria a fleet of steam- 
ers that ply up the river for a distance of 1,300 miles from 
the Aral sea. Sand bars in the lower Oxus impede navi- 
gation, but Russian boats have ascended the greater part 
of its course as far as Chdja Saleh, now well-known as 
the point on the river where .the Afghans assert their fron- 
tier joins that of Russia. Both these great rivers are valu- 
able arteries of trade, but the Oxus, though the fertile 
lands along its banks are not so extensive nor so populous 
as those along the Syr-Daria, is destined to be commer- 
cially the more important stream. While the Syr-Daria 
leads only to the comparatively barbarous countries of 
east Turkestan and Thibet, the Oxus will carry the 
freightage of Russia almost to the gates of India. It is 
evident to all students of her progress in central Asia, 
that Russia's commercial aims include not only a vast 
augmentation of her overland trade with China, but the 
opening of India to her products as the reward of her I 

long and, as yet, illy requited sacrifices in Turkistan. 
I The revenues from her new possessions as yet cover 
1 hardly a third of the annual expenditures. 

The Khanate of Khokand has been so completely ab- 
sorbed by the Russian military government that its name 
has disappeared from recent maps. Bokhara and Khiva 
are still nominally ruled by their old sovereigns, but they 
are merely dependencies of Russia, and pay a heavy trib- 
ute for the privilege of retaining a semblance of autonomy. 
The Khan of Khiva is not permitted to have an army, 
and his subjects have been stripped of their weapons. 
He is so far a more completely subjected prince than the 
Ameer of Bokhara, who is permitted to maintain an army 
of 20,000 men, which he has pledged himself to place at 
the disposal of the Russian commander, and which, 
according to Mr. Boulger, will prove a serviceable aux- 
iliary corps. 

When Russia had conquered the Khanates there was 
still hard work for her armies south of the Oxus, where 
large tribes of wild Turcomans constantly menaced her 
enterprises, and blocked the way to Herat. Some years 
after Khiva fell, Skobeleff and his Cossacks scattered the 
Teke-Turcomans, the greatest slave hunters and most 
lawless nomads who roamed the desert of Kara Kum. 
Last year the last stronghold of this tribe was occupied 
by Russian troops. It was the earth fort they were build- 
ing in the bend of the Murghat river, at Merv, when 
O Donovan visited them four years ago. Its ramparts — 
forty feet high and sixty feet wide at the base — were 
speedily knocked to pieces, and Merv now forms part of 
the Russian Transcaspian province. Years before, Sir 
Henry Rawlinson, the greatest authority on Central Asia, 
had told the British government that " Herat is at the 
mercy of the general who occupies Merv." But public 
opinion in England did not keep pace with the march of 
events in Asia, and it was not till the Russian forces had 
left the Merv oasis and received the submission of the 
Turcomans south of Sarachs that Great Britain awoke to 
the belief that the Czar was threatening Herat and men- 
acing India.— New York Sun. 


I love thee, Mary, and thou lovest me. 
Our mutual tlame is like the alHnity 
That doth exist between two simple bodies; 
I am Potassium to thine Oxygen. 
' l is little that the holy mariiage vow 
Shall shortly make us one. That unity- 
Is, after all, but metaphysical. 
Oh, would that I, my Mary, were an acid, 
A living acid ; thou an alkali 

Endowed with human sense, that, brought together, 

We both might coalesce into one salt. 

One homogeneous crystal. O that thou 

Wert Carbon, and myself were Hydrogen; 

We would unite to form olefiant gas, 

Or common coal, or naphtha Would to Heaven 

That I were Phosphorus, and thou wert Lime, 

And we of Lime composed a Phosphuret ! 

I'd be content to be Sulphuric Acid, 

So that thou might be Soda. In that case 

We should be Glauber's-Salt. Wert thou Magnesia, 

Instead, we'd torni that's named from Epsom. 

Couldst thou Potassa be, I Aqua-fortis, 

Our happy union should that compound form, 

Nitrate of Potash— otherwise Saltpeter. 

And thus, our several natures sweetly blent, 

We'd live and love together, until death 

Should decompose the tleshy tertium i/uid. 

Leaving our souls to all eternity 

Amalgamated. Sweet, thy name is Hriggs, 

And mine is Johnson. Wherefore should we not 

Agree to form a Johnsonate of Briggs? 

We will. The day, the happy day, is nigh. 

When lohnson shall with beauteous Briggs combine. 


The Princess de Metternich, Ambassadress of Austria 
in Paris during the Second Empire, was in her box at the 
opera in 1861, when, for the first time, Tannh'aitser 'was 
given in the French capital. The whole house rose in 
tumultuous disapproval of the opera and its composer, 
voicing in its hisses the opinion of the court and the town. 
Mine, de Metternich, pale and dauntless, rose, and lean- 
ing forward, her fan shivering in her nervously clinched 
hands, defied and apostrophized the audience with these 
words : " To-morrow you will adore what you condemn 
to-day ! " 

Wagner's noble adherent— the woman who had such 
implicit trust in him, and such contempt for the stability 
and verdict of public opinion — has just visited Paris. 
Time has not altered her. She is still what she was then, 
when her plainness of feature, her strange and piquant 
ugliness, was redeemed by a supreme elegance, the tradi- 
tion of which is losing itself every day. She was unap- 
proached in wit, repartee, freedom of manner and speech, 
whether she sang the most risque songs of Theresa in the 
salon of her embassy, or headed the fast and furious revels 
of Compeigne. She used to say of herself that she was 
"the best dressed ape in Paris." She played at cards to 
the very limits of gambling, attended races, acted in pri- 
vate theatricals, was the life and soul, the fairy and imp, 
of the court of folly and mad pleasnre which surrounded 
Napoleon III ; and yet in the midst of her most audacious 
defiance of social rules she was ever the haughty Austrian, 
the proud ambassadress, the indomitable daughter of the 
princely father who made a bet that he would ride his 
horse up and down the stairs of a five-story house, and 
won it. She had the original and singular idea of found- 
ing a club of ugly women, and more singular still, she 
actually prevailed upon five others to become members. 
There was a countess with a justly esteemed literary name ; 
a clever marquise, whose title recalls one of the most pic- 
turesque environs of Paris ; a charming woman, lame like 
Talleyrand, of the purest legitimist faith, renowned for her 
repartees; and a Russian princess. But there the re- 
cruits stopped. Beyond those five none were found con- 
scious enough of the inferiority of their other attractions 
to blazon proudly the confession of their want of beauty ; 
and the Club des Laides died a natural and premature 
death, despite the valiant attitude of the founder, with 
raven hair, large black eyes, and Calmuck features. 


The war was over. General Lee and his half-starved 
Confederetes had returned to their desolate homes on 
their parole of honor. The victorious northern and 
western armies, under command of Grant and Sherman, 
were encamped in and around Washington city. Jeffer- 
son Davis was an inmate of a casement in Fortress Mon- 
roe, and Edwin E. Stanton was the power behind the 
throne who ran the government while Secretary of War. 

Generals Grant and Rawlins were playing a game of 
billiards in the National Hotel. A major in the regular 
army entered the room in a hurry and whispered to 
General Grant. The latter laid his cue on the table, say- 
ing, " Rawlins, don't disturb the balls until I return," 
and hurried out. One of the two civilians said to the 
other, " Pay for the game and hurry out. There is some- 
thing up." 

General Grant had reached the street where, in front 
of the hotel, stood a mounted sentinel. Grant ordered 
the soldier to dismount, and springing into the saddle put 
spurs to the horse and rode up the avenue so fast as to 
attract the attention of pedestrians. 

Colonel Barroll, of the Second Regular Infantry, was 
disbursing officer in the quartermaster s department, and 
to the Colonel one of the civilians went for information. 
Asking him if he knew the reason of General Grant's 
hasty action, Colonel Barroll answered, " Yes, and as 
you are aware of the coming of General Grant I will tell 
you all about it." Colonel Barroll than said, "Secretary 
Stanton sent for me in reference to the execution of cer- 
tain orders, and while listening to his instructions General 
Grant came in. The Secretary greeted the General with 
a pleasant 'Good morning,' which the latter returned, 
and in continuation said, ' Mr. Secretary, I understand 
that you have issued orders for the arrest of General Lee 
and others, and desire to know if such orders have been 
placed in the hands of any officer for execution.' 

'"I have issued writs for the arrest of all the prominent 
rebels, and officers will be despatched on the mission 
pretty soon,' replied the secretary. 

"General Grant appeared cool, though laboring under 
mental excitement, and quickly said — 

"'Mr. Secretary, when General Lee surrendered to 
me at Appomattox Court House, I gave him my word 
and honor that neither he nor any of his followers would 
be disturbed so long as they obeyed their parole of hon- 
or. I have learned nothing to cause me to believe that 
any of my late adversaries have broken their promises, 
and have come here to make you aware of that fact, and 
would also suggest that those orders be cancelled.' 

" Secretary Stanton became terribly angry at being 
spoken to in such a manner by his inferior officer, and 
said : 

" 'General Grant, are you aware whom you are talking 
to? I am the Secretary of War.' 

"Quick as a flash Grant answered back, 'And I am 
General Grant. Issue those orders at your peril ! ' Then, 
turning on his heel, General Grant walked out of the 
room as unconcerned as if nothing had happened. 

" It is needles to say that neither General Lee nor any 
of his soldiers were arrested. I was dismissed from the 
presence of the Secretary with the remark that my ser- 
vices in connection with the arrest of the leading rebels 
would be dispensed with until he took time to consider, 
and I now wait the result of his decision." Like some 
cases in law, that decision of the great War Secretary was 
reserved for all time. —Philadelphia Times. 

A peculiar effect of the opera given at Chicago in an 
auditorium capable of holding 8,000, was the adjustment 
of the conventional small stage-business to megatherian 
boards. If " Siebel " stood at the prompter's box, and, in 
the vocal rest gisen for the decorative work of the wood 
instruments, should, according to tradition, walk to the 
flower-bed at the center of the stage, pluck a rose and re- 
turn, she must now not only run, but run precipitately, 
and sing, too, on her way back. The " business" of 
" Mephistophcles," always an active task, became truly 
demoniac, and the red baritone was at most times taking 
four-foot paces and covering a hundred yards where he 
had been used to the compassing of only ten. Patti, be- 
ing very small of stature, was at all times at great disad- 
vantage, owing to the overwhelming need of haste, forthe 
music goes on like fate. Nobody lagged superfluous; 
the opera did not lack movement. Any great effect, 
however, such as a martial scene, usually ridiculous in a 
theater, at once rose to unquestioned dignity ; and prob- 
ably no one who witnessed the leading scenes ever saw 
anything else of a purely histrionic character which was 
so impressive. But " opera for the people " means death 
to the monopoly of soprano singers. 1 he audience often 
forgets that Patti is on the stage. Some round-voiced 
baritone may yet, with such surroundings, become the 
pet of the world.— Current. 

The publication of the revised version of the Old 
Testament is, of course, awaited with interest, but it will 
be an event of much less importance than was the publi- 
cation of the revised New Testament. The doctrines of 
the Christian religion might have been seriously affected, 
in the minds of Protestants, by very slight changes in the 
New Testament ; but whatever the revisers might have 
done with the Jewish Scriptures, the Christian religion 'can 
have nothing to fear. That the revised Old Testament 
will be more accurate than the present authorized version 
goes without saying. No intelligent man dreams of deny- 
ing that the revised New Testament is more accurate than 
its predecessors. Nevertheless, it will be a long while be- 
fore the more accurate version supersedes the less accu- 
rate. The habit of assuming the infallibility of the King 
lames translation has sprung from the belief in the in- 
fallibility of the Greek and Hebrew originals. That in 
time the new version will entirely supersede the old there 
can be no question, but the generation which has been 
taught to venerate the King James Bible must pass away 
before the Victorian Bible can be fairly judged. 



Alas, the season's round again 

When troubles grow intense, 
Kor Thomas C. with might and main 

Howls on your back-yard fence. 
The small boy gaily rolls his hoop 

Along the nag-stone walk, 
The door-maid lingers on the stoop 

To hear the postman talk. 
The iceman hints at higher rates, 

The cook resolves to go, 
The urchin on the area gates 

Swings calmly to and fro. 
The ashman scatters to the breeze 

The atmospheric lye, 
Which makes you sputter, swear, cough, sneeze, 

And close your starboard eye. 
The organ-grinder haunts the streets, 

The German band thaws out, 
The roasted peanut's odor greets 

Your nostrils round about. 
The festive worm ascends the trees, 

The wiWflowers are in bloom, 
The wealthy plumber takes his ease, 

And house rents take a boom. 
The busy doctor gathers in 

The shekels by the ton, 
While reckless cholera germs begin 

To have their little fun. 
'Tis now — but why prolong the tale? 

Let's drop a silent tear, 
For these are things which never fail 

To come around each year. Puck, 

General Grant was the first President who had 
a summer residence away from the District of 
Columbia. His departure for his villa at Long 
Branch was the signal for a general official exo- 
dus from Washington, beginning with members 
of the Cabinet, and including comptrollers, au- 
ditors, registers, chief clerks, and others charged 
with carrying on and supervising the great busi- 
ness of the country. In point of fact, while 
these officers were paid large annual salaries, 
they only gave about eight months out of the 
twelve to their duties. Except for mere routine 
the departments might as well have been closed 
from June to December. 

It is a curious fact that both General Grant 
and his daughter, Mrs. Sartoris, have had the 
unusual amusement of reading their own obitu- 
aries. The General must have been especially 
struck by some of the recent poems in his honor. 
Mrs. Sartoris's obituaries a few years ago, when 
her death was reported from England, were of 
the most flattering description. There can be 
no doubt that she is a favorite with the Ameri- 
can people. 

Coleridge, according to Sir Henry Taylor, was 
once insulted by an article in a newspaper. He 
went to the office and demanded to see the editor. 
He was civilly shown into a back room, and 
asked to wait. At length the door opened, and 
a prize-fighter of huge dimensions presented him- 
self, saying, "Sir, I am the editor." 


Passenger Trains leave station, foot of Market street 
(south side), at 

8 0 C~~\ A. M., daily, Alvarado, Newark, Center- 
. O KJ ville, Alviso, Santa Clara, SAN JOSE, Los 
Gatos, Wrights, Glenwood, Felton, Big Trees, SANTA 
CRUZ and all Way Stations. 

O or\ P. M. (except Sunday), Express; Mt. 
^ • * Eden, Alvarado, Newark, Centerville, Al- 
viso, Agnews, Santa Clara, SAN JOSE, Los Gatos, and 
all Stations to SANTA CRUZ. 
t\ O (~\ P. M., daily, for SAN JOSE, Los Gatos, 
• «3 V_-J an d intermediate points. 
Mf>*-> DER CREEK, and $2 50 to SAN JOSE, on 
Saturdays and Sundays, to return on Monday, inclusive. 
«Q {~*\{~\ A- M., every Sunday, Excursion to SAN 

DER CREEK, and return. 

$1 75 to SANTA CLARA and SAN JOSE, and re- 

All through trains connect at Felton for Boulder Creek 
and points on Felton and Pescadero Railroad. 


26. 00, 86-30, 87.00, 7.30, 8.00, 8.30, 0.00, 9.30, 10.00, 
xo.30, 11.00, 11.30 A. M. ^12.00, 12.30,^11.00, 1.30,^2.00, 
2 *3°» 3-°°t 3-3°t 4-oo> 4-3°> 5-oo, 5.30, 6.00, 6.30, 7.00, 7.30, 
8.30, 9.30, 10.45, "-45 M - 

OAKLAND — 85-30. 36.00, 86.30, 7.00, 7.30, 8.00, 8.30, 
9.00, 9.30, 10.00, 10.30, *, 1 1 .00, 11.30 A. M . ; 11 12.00, 12.30, 
tJi.oo, 1.30, 2.00, 2.30, 3.00, 3.30, 4.00, 4.30, 5.00, 5.30, 
6.00, 6.30,7.00, 7.30, 8.30, 9-30, 10.45, II -45 «*■ M. 

From HIGH STREET, ALAMEDA — §5.16, 85 46, 
36.i6, 6.46, 7.16, 7.46, 8.16, 8.46, 9-16, 9.46, 10. 16, U10.46, 
11. 16, lfn.46 A. M. 12.16, II 12.46, 1. 16, 1.46, 2.16, 2.46, 
3.16, 3.46, 4.16, 4.46, 5.16, 5.46, 6.16, 6.46, 7.16, 9,16, 10.31 
11.31 P. M. 

# Sundays excepted. ^Sundays only. 

TICKET, Telegraph and Tiansfer Offices 222 Mont- 
gomery street, San Francisco. 


Superintendent. G. F. &. P. Agent. 


The Roads to the World-famed California 
Geyser* are in Excellent Condition. 


Sew Cottages and Ample Hotel and Bath- 
ing Accommodations Offer Pleasure 
and Repose to the Visitor. 

For particulars inquire at Tourists' Office, Palace Ho- 
tel, No. 613 Market street, or at the office of San Fran- 
cisco and North Pacific Railroad, 430 Montgomery 
street. WM. FORSYTH, Proprietor. 








H. ti. WARNER & CO , Rochester, N. Y. 



fl.OO -A. BOTTLE. 

H. H. WARNER A CO., Rochester, N. V. 

MRS. R. C. BARTELLE, Waterloo, N. Y., sufferer 
for many years from severe stomach disorder, depression 
of spirits, prostration and sleeplessness, hut was restored 
to health by Warners TIPPECANOE, the Best 



$1.00 A BOTTLE. 

II. II. WARNER A. CO., Rochester, N. v. 

REV. J. PIKE POWERS, Owenton, Ky., cured his 
son of dyspepsia ond mal-assimilation of food, headache 
and dizziness, with Warner's TIPPECANOE, The Best. 





Steamers leave Wharf, corner First and Brannan streets, 
at 2 o'clock, p. m., for 

Connecting at Yokohama with steamers for Shanghae. 

Steamer. From San Francisco. 




EXCURSION TICKETS to Yokohama and return 
at reduced rates. 

Cabin plans on exhibition and Passage Tickets on sale 
at C. P. R. Company's General Office, Room 74, corner 
Fourth and Townsend streets. 

For freight apply to CEO. H. RICE, Freight Agent, 
at Pacific Mail Steamship Company's wharf, or to No. 
202 Market street (Union Block). 

T. H. GOODMAN, Gen'I Passenger Agent. 




The splendid new 3,000-ton Steamships will leave rhe 
Company's Wharf, corner of Steuart and Harrison streets : 



AT 3 P. M. 

EXCURSION TICKETS at reduced rates. 
For further particulars apply to 

J. D. SPRECKELS & BROS., Agents, 
327 Market street. 


Nail FranclSCO iiml X< u York. 


91 Michigan Avenue; 4 liishopgate street, within ; 


Agent. Agent. 
Flavel's Wharf and Warehouse; 
Samuel Elmore, Agent. 

We have our brokers in every romnietiial <"ity of im- 
portance in the Western, Middl** and Eastern States, and 
employ a large staff of traveling salesmen. We have the 
best facilities for the distribution of California products 
East, and give especial attention to California wines and 
brandies, salmon in barrels, dried fruit, lima and small 
white beans, canned salmon, canned goods, raisins, 
oranges, barley and other products. 



310 Sansomr street, 

San Francisco. 

C. P. R. R. 


Trains Iran- and are doe 10 arrive at San 
Francisco as follows: 


7.30 a. m. 

3.00 p. in. 

4.00 p. m. 

8.00 a. m. 
*4.oo p. m. 

7.30 a. in. 

3.00 p. m . 

7.30 a. m. 

3.30 p.m. 

7.00 p. m. 

8.00 a. m. 
*3«30 p. m. 

4.00 p. in. 

3.30 p. m. 

S.oo a. in. 
*5.oo p. m. 
t8.oo a. m. 
•9.30 a. m. 

3.30 p.m. 

7.30 a. m. 

3.30 p. m. 

7.00 p.m. 

8.00 a. m . 
10.00 a. m. 

3.00 p. m. 
*5.oo p. m. 

3.00 p. m. 

7.00 p. m 

7.30 a. m. 

7.30 a. m. 

8.00 a. m. 

7.30 a. m. 

3.00 p. m. 

4.00 p. m. 
•4.00 p. m. 

8.00 a. m. 
10.00 a. m. 

3.00 p. m. 

8.00 a. m. 


. Benicia . . . 

■ Calistoga and Napa... 
! Colfax 

. Delta, Redding and Portland.. 
1 IVming, El Paso I Express. . . 

(and East ) Emigrant .. 

.(fait and lone via Livermore .. 

.Gait via Marline/ 

. Knight's Lauding 

. Los Angeles and South 

. Livermore and Pleasanton 

. Marti 

. . Marysville and Chico 

j Mojave and East ( Express. . . 

( '* " 11 } Emigrant 
. .Miles and Haywards 


( Ogden and East I Express 

\ " 44 4 4 ( Emigrant . . 
( Red RlufT ( via Marysvilie. 
I and Tehama 1 via Woodland . 
. Sacramento, via Livermore. . . 

44 via Benicia 

4 * via Benicia 

41 via Benicia 

. Sacramento River Steamers . . 
. . San Jose 

.Stockton and *Milton, via Liv 


.Stockton, via Martinez 

(Tulare, Fresno 1 

\ Madera and Merced. ( 

. Vallejo 

6.40 p. 1 
1 1. 10 a. 1 
10.10 a. 1 

* 10.10 a. i 

6.40 p. 1 
5 40 P- 1 

1 1. 10 a. 1 
6.40 p. 1 

10.40 a. 1 
6.10 a. 1 
5.40 p. 1 

* 10.40 a. 1 
10. 10 a. 1 
10.40 a. 1 

5.40 p. 1 
•8.40 a. 1 
6.40 p. 1 
*3-40 p. 1 
10.40 a. 1 
5-40 p. 1 
10.40 a. 1 
6.10 a. t 
5-40 p. 1 
3.40 P- 1 
9.40 a. 1 
•8.40 a. i 
11. 10 a. 1 
9.40 a. 1 
5.40 p. 1 
6.40 p. 1 
5.40 p. 1 
6.40 p. 1 
11. 10 a. 1 
10.10 a. : 
*6.oo a. 1 
*3-40 p. 1 
13-4° P- 
9.40 a. 

5-4o P 
* 10.40 a 
♦3.40 p 
10.40 a 
6.40 p 
♦3.40 p 

*3-30 p.m. 
*9-3o a. m. 
3.30 p. m. 

8.00a.m. ..Vallejo 0.40p.m. 

*9-3oa. m. .. 41 '3.40 p. m. 

3.00 p. m 

4.00 p. m. . . " 10.10 a 

3.00 p.m. ..Virginia City 11. 10 a 

7.30a.m. ..Woodland 6.40 p 

4.00 p. m.J . . 44 10.10 a 

Train leaving San Francisco at 3 : 00 a. m. meets Pa- 
cific Express from Ogden at Vallejo Junction; and Pa- 
cific Express from El Paso and Mojave at Pinole. 
* Sunda ys excepted. t Sundays only. 


From "SAN FRANCISCO" Dally. 

TO EAST OAKLAND — *6.oo. *6. 3 o, 7.00, 7.30, 8.00, 
8.30, 9.00, 9.30, 10.00, 10.30, 11.00, tfi 30, 12.00, I 2.3o, 
1. 00, 1.30, 2.00, 2.30, 3.00, 3.30, 4.00, 4.30, 5.00, 5.30, 

6.00, 6.3O, 7.OO, 8.00, 9.OO. IO.OO, IT. OO, *I2.00. 

TO FRUIT VALE — *6.oo, *6. 3 o, * 7 .oo, *7.3o, *8.oo, 
•8.30, *3.30, *4 00, *4-30, *5-oo, *5>30, *6.oo, *6-3o, 9.00. 
TO FRUIT VALE (via Alameda)— *o. 30, 6.30, tn.oo, 


TO ALAMEDA— *6.oo, *6.3o, 7 00, *7. 3 o, 8.00, '8.30, 
9.00, 9.30, 10.00, {10,30, 11.00, lit.--, 12.00, {12.30, 

T.OO, tl.30, 2.00, 3.O0, 3.30,4.00,4.30, 5.00, 5.30,6.00, 
6.3O, 7.OO, 8.00, 9.OO, IO.OO, II.OO, *I2.00. 

TO BERKELEY— *6.oo, *6.3o, 7.00, *7.30, 8.00, *8. 30, 
9.00, {9.30, 10.00, 1 10.30, 11.00, tn.30, 12.00, 1. 00, 2.00, 
3.00, 4.00, 4.30, 5.00, 5.30, 6.00, 6.30, 7.00, 8.00, g.oo, 
10.00, ir.oo, *i2.oo. 

TO WEST HERKELEY-*6.oo,*6. 3 o,7 00, '7.30, {S.oo, 
*8-30, 9.00, 10.00, 11.00, 1 1 00, 2.00, 3.00, 4.00, *4-3o, 
5.00, *5-30, 6.00, *6.3o, 7.00. 


FROM FRUIT VALE— *6.23, '6.53, * 7 -23, *7-53. '8.23, 
*B-53. *9 '3. *io.2i, '4.23, *4-53. *5-*3. *5-53. *°*3. 
*6-53. 7-25. 9-5°- 

FROM FRUIT VALE (via Alambda)— "5. 15, *5. 4 5, 
J6.45, t9-'5. *3-"5- 

FROM EAST OAKLAND— '5.30, *6.oo, 6.30, 7.00, 
7.30, 8.00, 8.30, 9.00, 9.30, 10.00, 10.30, 11.00, it. 30, 
12.00, 12.30, 1.00, 1.30, 2.00, 2.30, 3.00, 3.30, 4.00, 4.30, 
5.00, 5.30, 6.00, 6.30, 7.00, 7.57, 8.57, 9.57, 10.57. 

FROM BROADWAY (Oakland)— '5.37, *6 07, 6.37, 
7-07. 7-37. 8.07, 8.37, 9.07, 9.37, 10.07, 10.37. «'-°7. 
11.37, 12.07, »2-37. '-07. >-37. 2.07, 2.37, 3.07, 3.37, 4.07, 
4.37, 5.07, 5.37, 6.07, 6.37, 7.07, 8.06, 9.06, 10.06, 11.06. 

FROM ALAMEDA— 1 5 . 22, 15.52, f6.22, 6.52, 17.22, 
7.52,18.22,8.52,9.22,9.52,(10.22, 10.52, {11.22, 11.52, 

fl2.22, T2.52, tl.22, I.52, 2.52, 3.22, 3.52, 4.22, 4.52, 
5.22, 5.52, 6.22, 6.52, 7.52, 8.52, 9.52. IO.52. 

FROM BERKELEY— 1 5 . 15, {5.45, (6.15, 6.45, t-.<5, 

7.45, 18. is, 8.45,, 9.45, tio.15, 10.45, "-'5. <>-45. 

12.45, '-45. 2.45, 3.45, 4.>5. 4-45. 5-«5. 5-45. 6.15, 6.45, 

7.45, 8.45, 9.45, 10.45. 
FROM WEST BERKELEY — (5.45, t6.i 5 , 6.45, 17.15, 

7.45, 8.45, t9-'5. 9-45. «°-45. t«2.45. >-45. 2 -45. 3-45. 

4-45. '5-'5- 5-45. to-'S. 6.45, (7.15. 


FROM SAN FRANCISCO— (7.15, 9.15, 11.15, r.15, 
3.15. 5->5- 

FROM OAKLAND— t6.i5, 8.115, 10-15, 12.15,2.15, 4.15. 
* or t Sundays excepted. X Sundays only. 

Pacific Standard Time furnished by Randolph & Co., 
101 Montgomery street, San Francisco. 


Gen. Manager. 

T. II. 4.001m \ v 

Gen. Pass. & Tin. Agt. 


OfHre 32 7 Market Str4>et 

•t.'imi'i ) Potrero 


J. D. SPRECKELS Vice President 

A. B. SPRECKELS Secretary 



Paid-up t apital 93,000,000 111 ( 1 

Jambs C. Flood, President; 

G«o. L. Bkandbr, Vice-President; 
R. H. Foi.lis, Jambs L. Flood, John W. Mackav. 

J. S. Angus, Secretary and Cashier ; 

Gbo. Gkant, Assistant Cashier; 

New York Agency, 62 Wall Street. 

London Correspondents, Union Bank of London Lm'd 

S. PJR. R. 


Commenctns! Sunday, November 10, 1884 

And until further notice, Passenger Trains will leave from 
and arrive at San Francisco Passenger Depot (Townsend 
street, between Third and Kotirth streets) M follows: 


S. F. 



S. F. 

f 6.50 a. m. 

8.30 a. m. 
10.40 a. m. 
•2.30 p. m. 

4.30 p. m. 
•5.15 p. m. 

6.30 p. ni. 

f ] 

J San Mateo, Redwood and , 
"J Menlo Park. 


6.35 a. ni. 
* a. m. 

9.03 a. 111. 
* 10.02 a. m. 

8.36 p. 111. 
t5.o7 p. Bfta 

6.08 p. m. 

8.30 a. in. 
10.40 a. in. 
•3.30 p. m. 

4.30 p. in. 

L ~. 1 
J Santa Clara, San JOBC an 
1 Principal Way Station*, j 

o.oj a. in. 
*io.o2 a. 111. 

3.36 p. m. 
6.08 p. in. 

10.40 a. in. 
•3.30 p m. 

| Gilroy, Pajaro, Castroville, 1 
] Salinas and Monterey. 1 

1 * 10.02 a. m. 
1 6.08 p. ni. 

10.40 a. m. 
*3-.V P* m* 

1 HollisterandTresPinos. 

10.40 a. m. 1 
*3-3° P- m. I 

I Watsonville, Aptos, Snquel | 
I (Camp Capitola)& S. Cru/. j 

6.08 p. m, 

10.40 a. ni. 1 Soledad and Way Stations. | 0.08 p. m. 

'Sundays excepted. * Sundays only (Sportsmen's train). 

it#STANi)AHi) of Time.— Trains are run on Pacific 
Standard Time (Randolph it Co.)i #Ucfa is Ten [to) 
minutes faster than San Francisco Local Time. 

STAGE CONNECTIONS arc made with the 10.40 
a. in. Train, except Pks< adkko stages via San Mateo and 
Redwood, which connect with 8 30 a. ru. Train. 

rates — to Monterey, Aptos, Soquel and Santa Cruz; also 
to Paraiso and Paso Rohles Springs. 


To Gilroy, San Jose and Intermediate Points. 

For Sundays only. ! , Sold Sund , a >' mornin i: good' for 

* * I return same day. 
Also, to Monterey, Santa Cruz, Soquel, Aptos, Gilroy, 

San Jose, and intermediate points. 
For Saturday, ) Sold on Saturday and Sunday only. 
Sunday and j Good for return until following Mon- 
Monday. ) day, inclusive. 

TlCKBT Ofucrs.— Passenger Depot, Townsend street, 
Valencia street Station, and No. 613 Market street — 
Grand Hotel. H. R. JUDAH, 

Asst. Passanger and Ticket Agent. 
A. C. BASSETT, Superintendent. 

For points on Southern Divisions and the East, see C. 
P. R. R. Timk Schedule. 



until further notice, Koats and 'Trains will leave from and 
aniveatSan Francisco Passenger Depot, Market Street 
Wh rf, as follows : 

Ran Francisco. 


Arrive in 
San Francisco. 







Santa Rosa, 
Fulton . 



7,45 a- m 

3.50a. m. 

8. or a. m. 


6.10 p. m. 

3.30P. m. 

& Way Stations. 

6,05 p. m. 

7.45 a. m. 

2 00 a. m. 


6. top. in. 

0.1.5 p. m. 

Stages connect at Santa Rosa for Sevastopol and Mark 
We t Spri- gs; at Clairville for Skaggs Springs, and at 
Cloverdale for Highland Springs, Kelscy ville, Soda Bay, 
Lakeport, Saratoga Springs, Blue Lakes Ukiah, Eureka, 
Navarro Ridge, Mendocino * ity, and the Geyser*. 

EXCURSION TICKETS- from Saturdays to Mon- 
days — To Petaluma,$r 7s; to Santa Rosa, $3; to Healds- 
hurg, $4; 10 Cloverdale, $5. 

EXCURSION TICKETS— good for Sundays only— 
To Petaluma, $1 50; to Santa Rosa, $?; to Healdshurg, 
$3; to Cloverdale, $4 50; to Guerneville, $3. 

From San Francisco for Point Tiburon and San Ra- 
fael—Week days : 7.45 a. in., 9.15 a. m,, 12.00 m., 3.30 p. 
m., 5 p. m., 6.10 p. m. Sundays: 8 a. m. t 9.30 a. m., 
11.00 a. m>, 1.30-p. Qi* 1 5 p. m. 

To San Francisco from San Rafael -Week days : 6.30 
a. m., 8 a. m.. 10.30 a m., 1.30 p m., 3.40 p. ni., 5 05 p. 
m. Sundays : 8.10 a. m.. 9.40 a. m., 19.15 P* m *» 3>3° P* 
01*1 5.00 p. rn. 

To San Francisco from Point Tiburon - Week days: 
7.00 a. ID', 8.20 a. m., 10.55 «"*■ m -» *»55 P- m *t 4-05 P- ni., 
5.30 p. m. Sundays : 8.35 a. m., 10.05 a - m *» 12.40 p. in., 
3.55 p. rn., 5.30 p. m. 

ARTHUR HUGHES, General Manager. 

PETER J. McGLYNN, Gen. Pass, and Tkt. Agt. 


Steamer James M. Donahue leaves San Francisco and 
connects with trains at Son ma Landing as follows : 

4 0/"\P- M., daily (Sunday excepted*, from Wjuh" 
• ^5 ington Street Wharf, for the town of Sono- 
ma, Glen Ellen, and way points. 

£2 O/^A. M. (Sundays o Iy), from Washington 
• Street Wharf, for the town of Sonoma, Glen 

Ellen, and way points. Round trip tickets to Sonoma, 
$1 ; Glen Ellen $1 50. 

ARTHUR HUGHES, General Manager. 
PETER J. McGLYNN, Gen. Pa*s. and Tkt. Agt. 

Price, with extraqnality Blade, $1 so. PACIFIC SAW 
M AN U FACTU RING COM PAN V, Not, 17 and_ 19 Fre- 
mont street, San Francisco. Agents C. li. PAULS Filrs. 



Endorsed by the Medical Profession. 
For sale everywhere. 

Depot, £13 Sacramento Mrn-l. 




The recent musical season has enabled the 
average opera-goer of Chicago and its vicinity 
to maTce some estimate of that peculiar art called 
" opera." It has enjoyed here a rare opportunity 
of showing its merit. It has had ample stage 
room, a good hall, enthusiastic and educated 
audiences, a great collection of most capable 
singers and orchestral performers. The defects 
in the two weeks must he reckoned those of 
opera, and not those of place or persons. 

The real truth is, opera is still the most im- 
perfect of the fine arts, and many persons found 
in the two weeks that disappointment which 
has thus far followed that form of music like a ! 
shadow. Go to these entertainments in Lon- | 
don or Paris, or in Chicago, and the same de- 
fects are visible, and people go home tired half 
to death by the disproportion — that awful lenrth 
of unimportant solos and recitations. 

One fault in opera is therefore the length of 
the performance. Four hours of Lohengrin or 
Faust are fully one hour too much. Nearly all 
these works are destitute of a due regard to the 
powers of human endurance, and perhaps were 
written by men who had no conception of the 
public capabilities. Musicians might be willing 
to sit for four, five, or six hours to listen to 
works in their own art, just as a poet may com- 
pose all night, with much happiness, verses 
which the outside world will read only an hour 
at a time. Opera-writers have failed to make 
any note of human nature, and have been al- 
ways like some preachers and senators and 
general talkers, who begin well and proceed 
well, but who have no conception of such a 
thing as the time to quit. In Lohengrin, the 
chieicharacter, the magical-seeker for the Holy 
Grail, has to sing a history of his project, and 
to expand and expand long after the climax of 
the theme has been exhausted. When some 
study shall be made of the real wish and need of 
the audience, opera will escape some of those 
dead points where the audience hopes and hopes 
for an end to come. 

The opera music is also wanting in melodies 
which sweep the heart. The playful works of 
Gilbert and Sullivan contain more songs for the 
people than are to be found in the massive pro- 
ductions which carry higher name and fame. 
"The Last Rose of Summer," "On Yonder 
Rock," and " I Have Sighed to Rest Me," are 
illustrations of the eagerness of heart to find 
some pathetic air which may excite a few tears 
and then live in memory in all subsequent time. 
There is no reason why comediettas should 
abound in popular airs and opera proper abound 
in heaviness. The classic style need not be a 
dull stvle. 

In all ol Faust there is not a single air worthy 
of Adelina Patti — nothing which can hush ten 
thousand people into silence, and leave them 
something to cherish in remembrance. No won- 
der she avoids Lohengrin. There is nothing in 
that piece for any such object of public favor. 
If she must satisfy the people, she must have a 
song worth the singing. An angel even could 
not sing with effect a poor song. 

Opera is a difficult art, because it must adjust 
many details to one grand result. It must deal 
in solos, duets, trios, quartets, and all there is 
in music of both voice and instrument. It must 
study also scenic effects and situations. 

The ideal opera is a thing of the future. It 
will open at eight and close at eleven. The solos 
will not kill the singer and the audience. There 
will be some grantl quartets, quintets and sex- 
tets; some of the historic parts will be spoken 
instead of sung, so as to make a contrast and 
furnish a rest. There will be some fun thrown 
into the evening, just as the police of "Dog- 
berry " cheer up the play of Much Ado, or as the 
"Grave Digger " cheers up Hamlet. Laughter 
helps make pathos. Opera will thus come along 
making itself anew out of the grand material it 
has accumulated, and will in some future year 
or period become one of the greatest forms ot art, 
and one of the greatest pleasures that can come 
from the many forms of the beautiful. — Current. 


Jay Gould bought Millet's " Brittany Wash- 
erwomen," from the Seney collection. It cost 
Gould $4,100; Seney paid $7,000 for it. Three 
washerwomen, half prostrate at the river bank, 
are represented at their labor, and they are 
really doing the work they pretend to be doing. 
They face the spectator, who is supposed to be 
just off shore. One takes the clothes out of the 
water, another drags the clothes to and fro 
through the water, and the third, with a mallet 
lifted above her head, beats clothe"s. The sim- 
le subject is infused with spirit and life. It 
as been placed on the most conspicuous wall 
in Jay Gould's parlor. Think of a perpetual 
washday in the saloon of America's second 
wealthiest man. 

Lord Tennyson has realized a larger income 
from the sale of property than any writer who 
has ever lived. When his publishers were the 
Messrs. Moxon, he was paid $7,500 a year in 
royalties. Subsequently Strahan & Co. paid 
him $25,000 for his books then in existence, and 
during the five years of his connection with 
them they paid him $155,000. Later, King 
& Co. paid him $20,000 a year. These figures by 
no means represent the whole of his income. 

Ex-President Mark Hopkins, of Williams Col- 
lege, though now in his eighty-third year, is as 
vigorous and comfortable as he has been at any 
time in thirtv years. His memory for faces is 
wonderful, fie recognizes with ease his pupils 
of fifty years ago. Dr. Hopkins's name is in- 
dissolubly associated with the growth of the 
higher learning in the United States. His works 
on mental science long ago became classics. 

Mrs. George W. Childs, of Philadelphia, is 
said to own the finest dinner-table bric-a-brac 
in that city. Her collections of dinner plates 
from the Sevres, Worcester, Derby, Dresden, 
Minton, and Copeland factories are superb, and 
when her table is set for a dinner for twenty per- 
sons, the cost of the porcelain and silver is 

.Men and Women. 

Women have many faults; 

Men have only two; 
There is nothing right they say, 

And nothing right they do. 

Hut if naughty men do nothing right, 
And never say what's true, 

What precious fools we women are 
To love them as we do! 

Mr. T. M. Garrett of Washington, Ga., has a 
cyclone pit, but it is said to be more dangerous 
than the cyclone. Part of his family and some 
of his neighbors ran into it on account of a clap 
of thunder and a puff of wind, and had to be 
carried out of it on account of gas. 

The immense stone bridge constructed by 
Chinese engineers over the arm of the Chinese 
sea at Lagang, is finished. The bridge is five 
miles long, entirely of stone, and has three hun- 
dred arches, each seventy feet high. The road- 
way is seventy feet wide. 

The third term got General Grant down a 
trifle, but he has beaten all the records of articu- 
late speaking men, by beating the Confederacy, 
death and the doctors. — Memphis Avalanche. 


Corner Sutter and Kearny Streets. 
GEO. SCHMITT Sole Proprietor and Manager 

r.ierj Evening Daring the week. 

Tremendous Hit made by Our Six New Stars, 




The Great Fountain Stork Company. 

Don't fail to witness this Show. 



Sole Agent Pacific Coast WM. J. LEMP'S WESTERN 
BREWERY, St. Louis, Mo. 

411 Bush Street, San Francisco. 

Large stock of Beer in bulk and bottles always on hand. 
Orders from dealers promptly attended to. 



For Sale Everywhere. Take 110 other. 






Ileal Beers always on draught. 

Lunches a specialty. 



Either Fire-proof, Burglar-proof, or Fire and Burglar- 
proof, a Bank Vault, Time Lock, or anything in the 
line of Safes, large or small, don't fail to call on 

211 and 213 California street. 
Safes sold on installments or taken in exchange. 

C. B. PARCEI.LS, Manager. 

Originators of the Parlor and Receiving Vault System. 
Closets to conceal goods. Telephone No. 5137* 



tiB Geary St., San Francisco, opp. StarT King's Church. 
Finest Funeral Furniture on the coast. 


Schuyler & Armstrong, Philadelphia. 

1865. I 



No. 13 Kearny Street, 
Between Post and (leary, San Francisco. 

Watches and Jewelry Repaired and Warranted. 



Importing, Manufacturing and Dispensing 


Everything new, first-clais ; large assortment. Market 
and Stockton sts. Store always open. 



No. 24 Kearny Street, San Francisco. 




n. .1. STAPLES, PraddeoL 
ALPHEUS BULL, Vice-President 

$750,000 00 
$1,520,894 77 

E. W. CARPENTER, AvtiM. Seeretary 







118 Sutter St., 

San Francisco, Cal. 

PIANOS ! Unqualifiedly and Emphatically, 

"pianos! THE BEST PIANO 

PIANOS! In the World! 




A J 




. TEA i 








5 Cents per Copy. 


A.t X5 Cents per Week. 



Capital 5,000,000 Dollars. 


Office 309 Sansome Street, San Francisco. 



One of the most accessible and convenient houses in the 
city. Newly furnished and carpeted throughout. 
Contains 125 rooms, single and en suite. Located at 
at Nos. 709 and 711 Jones street, close to the Sutter 
Street Car line, and within a block of the Geary Street 
Cable Road. House is supplied with Elevator, Tele- 
phone, and two American District Telegraphs. 

Special atlention has been given to ensure complete 
ventilation, while the sanitary provisions are unexcelled. 
Prices according to location of room. 



Every Aiternoon. 


SO Cts. per Month. 



1. You get the maximum of News for the minimum of 


a. Your wife and daughters like it better than those 
other stupid papers." 

3. If you go home ill-natured, reading the REPORT 
at dinner will make you good-natured. 

4. It talks common sense, and only expresses an opin- 
ion when it has something interesting to say. 

5. Its editorials are not a mile long. 

6. It is clean. 

7. It doesn't take all day to read it. 

8. It gives more items of news than any other paper. 

9. Every line sparkles. 

to. It is the best paper for the least money. 
11. If you don't take the DAILY REPORT you 
don't get the news. 


518 Clay Street, 
(Between Montgomery and Sansome streets) 


jf First-class Restaurant for Ladies and Gentlemen. 114 
Sutter street, between Kearny and Montgomery, San 
Francisco. E. R. PERRIN, Proprietor. 


MAY 16, 1885. 

iA VOL. III. — NO. 17. 



Postscripts Derrick Dodd 1 

The Man Who Was Guilty— Chapters III, IV 

Flora Haines Apponyi 2-3 

Washington Chat Elise Hathaway 4 

Art and Nature Fingal Buchanan 4 

Woman's Realm F. E. W. 5 

Woman's Work: San Francisco Girls' Union 

Ella Sterling Cummins 6 

Science and Theology 6 

The Rambler J. D. S. 7 

Willis, The Forgotten 7 

Editorial : Water and Gas Rates; The Times are Out of Joint; 

Judge Field; The Keeper of the Foundlings 8 

Concerning Hardy's Hospital M. 9 

Jenkins Again Francesca 9 

Rambles Among Books Ferret 10 

Ingersoll on Orthodoxy 10 

Americans as Silver Miners Dan De Quille 11 

Our Changing Globe 11 

The Ashes of A C/esar 12 

Amusements Dorothy 13 

When Did the Civil War End? ,14 

Current Fun r4 

Personal 16 

Poetry: The Lady's Yes; A Swell's Soliloquy; No Baby in the 

House; Saint Agnes; An Appeal to Newspaper Wits. 



Carmine-tinted foreheads and chins are the latest craze 
among the Boston belles. To this complexion have we 
come at last. 

A Great Invention. — Every young lady within the 
sound of my pen, and particularly every young man, 
understands and has suffered from the chaperone nuisance. 
The fact that what is.technically known as a " nice girl " 
has to be hampered by one of these social vampires in 
all her relations with the opposite sex, is a perennial 
source of exasperation to young people everywhere. It 
is therefore with great pleasure I announce to my read- 
ers that Professor Dinghoeffer, the eminent scientist and 
inventor, after years of anxious study and research, has 
perfected what he calls his Patent Rubber Chaperone, 
the general adoption of which will indeed prove a boon 
to the afflicted. His object has been to produce an imi- 
tation of the current inevitable and disagreeable chap- 
erone, that will bear inspection by Mrs. Grundy and at 
the same time meet the views of the chaperoned parties 
as to discretion and obliviousness. 

The Dinghoeffer Chaperone is a hollow rubber struc- 
ture representing an antique maiden lady of severe facial 
aspect, and generally dignified and frigid appearance. 
The entire figure can be inflated at will, and when not in 
use can be packed in a small box for shipment to families, 
or carried about to watering-places in the bottom of a 
trunk. A singularly lifelike expression is imparted by 
imitation false teeth, and glass eyes of a yellowish tinge, 
the latter being rolled at two-minute intervals by clock- 
work concealed in the figure's head. The same ingen- 
ious machinery causes the corrugated rubber brow to 
frown at four-minute intervals for four hours, without 
rewinding. The feet are provided with castors, on the 
roller-skate principle, and the inventor claims that 
when his invention is placed on end, with its right arm 
hooked through that of the escort for the occasion, 
it glides over the pavement or down the aisle of a theater, 
in a noiseless and lifelike manner calculated to deceive 
the eye of the most malignant gossip. The extreme 
compressibility of the Patent Chaperone renders it of the 
greatest convenience in crowded street cars and like 
places. It can be wedged between a spoony couple in a 
single seat buggy without marked inconvenience, and the 
Professor lays special stress upon its merits as a life-pre- 
server while engaged in chaperoning bathing parties at 
the seaside. Should any one be seized with a cramp, the 
chaperone can be vigorously thrown into the surf, and 
there you are. In addition to its principal charm of 
absolute discretion, the chaperone is, of course, devoid 

of the terrific after-theater appetite peculiar to the present 
article, an important item with the small-salaried lovers 
of the period. If the young ladies of this city feel like 
sending the writer a gold-headed cane or Howard stem- 
winder watch, to be forwarded to the inventor as a testi- 
monial of gratitude, we see no reason why they should 
not do so. If not in, the committee will please try saloon 
across the way. 

Mr. Henry Cake was arrested on Telegraph Hill the 
other day, for hammering his wife with a bed-slat. Sort 
of batter-cake, as it were. 

Chicago is falling behind the times again in the way of 
domestic improvements, lip in Seattle this week a man 
went off for a day's fishing. During his absence his wife 
got a divorce, had his best suit made over for the other 
man, the property divided, and her half advertised for 
sale in the next morning's paper. That kind of a woman 
is a credit to our progressive civilization and a boon to the 

Gave Himself Away. — A gentleman who spent many 
years at Sun Dance, on the Apache reservation, says that 
about four years ago the w hite population got wind of a 
contemplated outbreak of the Indians, there being about 
six thousand dissatisfied braves able to take the war-path 
at a day's notice. General Crook, the great Indian 
fighter, was at once sent for, and, to the extreme discom- 
fiture of the Indians, arrived with his staff a few days 
after, in time to take part in a meeting of the chiefs in the 
council- house. The Gray Fox, as he was called by the 
Apaches, made a fatherly but significant address that had 
a depressing effect upon the nation's wards. As he ceased, 
an extremely fresh young chief strode across the floor and 
felt the General's biceps curiously. Then, with an ex- 
pression of great contempt, he exclaimed, in the Indian 
tongue — 

" This cannot be a great warrior. His arm is like a 

At this a white-haired chief named Fire Cloud angrily 
pushed the young brave aside, exclaiming — 

"The Gray Fox fights with his head, not his arm." 

"Then," retorted the young wanior, "he should be 
called the Gray Ram." 

The entire audience instantly fell upon the speaker, 
who was bound hand and foot, after a desperate struggle, 
and searched. Under his moccasins were found a pair of 
yellow-topped toothpick shoes, while his buckskin shirt 
contained an eight-carat diamond cut out of the bottom 
of a goblet. He confessed to being the end-man of a 
wrecked minstrel troupe, who was trying to scalp his way 
back to the settlements. 

He was tomahawked by the unanimous vote of the 

The religious papers are in a great stew over the case 
of Rev. Dr. Gage, of Hoboken, who recently killed a 
burglar with a bung-starter. Some people think that be- 
cause a man is a minister he ought to kill burglars with a 
rosewood croquet mallet. 

A Poor Rule, Etc.—" How is it, Mr. Brown," said the 
mill-owner to the farmer, " that when I came to measure 
those five barrels of apples I bought from you, I found 
them nearly a barrel short." 

"Singular, very singular, for I put them up in some of 
your own flour barrels." 

"Ahem! Did, eh? Well, perhaps I made a mistake. 
Fine weather, isn't it? Let's imbibe." 

More Slander. — The editor of the Blackfoot (Arizo- 
na) Courier has been in our alleged town on a vacation, 
and has since vigorously written us up, or down. In the 
last issue received of that valuable exchange he says that 
the Palace Hotel is " in some respects a first-class tavern; 
but, while Mr. Sharon is fairly attentive and polite, he 
doesn't understand how to cook cabbage thoroughly, and 
has a clumsy way of brushing the crumbs off the table 

into your lap, that is very annoying, and will eventually 
lose him his first-class Arizona custom." 

This illustrates the manner in which our community is 
constantly being misrepresented abroad. Every child 

here knows that Mr. S has a hired man to wait on 

the table, help the pie, etc. The Senator never does 
anything himself besides running the dumb-waiter and 
uncorking the high-priced wines when there is a rush. 
The ignorance of the country editors is astounding. 

Little Liza 

Couldn't wait ; 
She's gone to swing 

On the Golden Gate 

Is Mr. Pickering's last. Three insertions for fifty cents. 

The Top Notch. — The Forty-niner anecdote business 
seems to have broken out fresh in the papers of late. The 
cold-blooded taradiddles some of these mossy-backed old 
timers have had the nerve to work off on a long-suffering 
public would make Eli Perkins turn green with envy, but 
the high-water mark was reached at the dinner of a new 
organization, the " Fiftiers," the other evening, when 
the chairman related the following copper-riveted remin- 
iscence : 

"All of you must remember when our only steamer land- 
ing was located where the Pick House now stands. Early 
in '53 it was proposed to build a regular w harf. There 
was no stone or lumber procurable at the time, so as 
a last resort three ship-loads of beans lying in the harbor 
were purchased, and over 40,000 bushels were dumped 
overboard to make a foundation for the planking. Of 
course, the beans would swell every high tide, and the 
wharf would be lifted up about fifteen feet, but on the 
whole it did very well. A few months later the rains 
made it necessary to pave Washington street, then the 
main thoroughfare. As lumber was worth about fifty 
dollars a square foot, the paving committee, in search of 
a substitute, finally purchased the entire cargo of the 
schooner Jennie Lee, consisting of plug chewing tobacco, 
and with this the street was paved a distance of eight 
squares. It was surprising how well the pavement wore, 
too, although, of course, it finally disappeared. Why, 
gentlemen, I can't begin to tell you how many times I 
have seen Jim Lick, Bill Coleman, Billy O'Brien or Doc 
Merrett, step out of a saloon in those good old days, 
kneel down, bite a chew out of the curbstone, and walk 

Some drowsy scientist is to the fore with a new book 
entitled, Does Position Affect Sleep? Of course it 
does. Even a scientist ought to know that. The Demo- 
crat who has just been wedged into office by Cleveland 
sleeps as sound again as the poor devil of a Repub. who 
has just been fired out. Not only does position affect 
sleep, but sleep affects position as well, else there 
wouldn't be so many clerks disc harged for getting down 
late to office mornings. 

"Look here, Mister!" said a drummer to another 
traveler who occupied a double-bedded room with him, 
" what makes you sit up in bed and hammer your pillow 
every time those cats out here squeal, eh? " 

" You must excuse me, my friend," said the somnam- 
bulist, " but the fact is I am sausage-chopper by trade." 

These patent medicine fiends are growing worse every 
day. The wife of an esteemed citizen of Cloverdale died 
last week, and when the funeral reached the grave, the 
bereaved widower was astounded to discover that some 
advertising agent had carefully stenciled on the door of 
the family vault, " Sufferers, Use Pott's Peruvian Liver 
Lifter!" "And the worst of it was," explained the 
widower, " the worst of it was, that was the very medicine 
she died of ! " 

The Century's statistics show that over three-fifths of 
the volunteers during the Rebellion were married men. 
There are times when a man is bound to have peace, 
even if he has to go to war for it. 






The next forenoon the door of Hale's cell was flung 
open, and he was marshaled along the central corridor of 
the prison, to where a group of fellow-prisoners stood on 
the damp stones of the pavement, and answered to their 
names as they were called off the great register. Like a 
flock of sheep they followed the Bailiff up a steep, narrow 
flight of steps, some bearing themselves with an air of 
reckless bravado, others with subdued hilarity, while now 
and then one seemed wrapped in sad introspection, and 
shrank from the curious glances of spectators, apparently 
not so far lost to the better sentiments of his manhood as 
to have altogether forfeited his sense of guilt and shame. 
Emerging through the doorway at the head of the steps, 
they entered a small pen partitioned- off from the main 
floor of the court-room by a wooden railing, and furnished 
with long benches. On an elevated platform at the left, 
upon a high seat upholstered with crimson damask, and 
overhung with a dingy canopy of the same material, a small, 
gray-haired man clad in a dark suit of citizen's clothes, 
was seated. His forehead was full and prominent, and 
the skeptical expression that rested on his face was tem- 
pered by the glance of his mild blue eye, unimpeachable 
witness of a kindly nature. Ranged at desks about and 
below him, sat the minor officials of the court. The room 
was crowded with people, who had gathered to enjoy the 
sight of a criminal a little above the ordinary run of the 
malefactors who daily made their appearance in the Police 

At a nod from the Judge the Clerk of the court called 
off the cases on the morning's docket, reading them in a 
monotonous voice only intelligible to the trained ears of 
the officers of the court. Man after man stood up in the 
dock at the Bailiff's bidding, not comprehending the source 
of the order, and sentences were passed upon luckless 
wights, who failed to distinguish a word that passed the 
lips of Clerk or Judge. 

Crowded upon one of the hard seats, with a boozy ine- 
briate on his right and a flashy hoodlum on his left, 
Hale's gaze wandered mechanically over the room, per- 
ceiving many familiar but no friendly faces. 

When his own turn came the summons fell unheeded 
on his ears, and it was not until the Bailiff, leaning over 
from the open space before the rail, rapped him sharply 
upon the shoulder with a stout cane, that Hale started to 
his feet. As he rose he observed Dartmoor standing 
among a group of indifferent spectators on the opposite 
side of the court -room. 

" Laurence Hale — Embezzlement of funds from the 
Bank of Yerba Buena." 

The prisoner remained quietly standing, and the indict- 
ment was repeated more distinctly. It was the first time 
he had ever entered a court-room, and he was ignorant of 
the accustomed routine, while dimly conscious that some- 
thing was expected of him, the precise nature of which he 
did not know. The Bailiff awakened him to a rude sense 
of his remissness by a sharp tap of his cane. 

" Well, what're you keeping the court waiting for? 
What's your plea?" 

Hale knew that the critical moment of his life was upon 
him ; that if he should maintain his innocence he might 
be acquitted for lack of evidence, and even in the event of 
his conviction there would always be many who would 
believe that he had been guiltless. He saw Dartmoor lay 
his hand on the shoulder of a lawyer who stood by his 
side, accompanying the act with an interrogating look, and 
he answered with one of silent negation. He turned and 
faced the Court, and replied to the charge, in a voice in 
which there was no hint of indecision — 

" Guilty." 

The brief silence that followed was succeeded by an 
unintelligible utterance from the Judge, and another 
name was called by the Bailiff, when the court was scan- 
dalized by an unprecedented proceeding. 

" If it please the Court ! " 

The prisoner, who, after his plea of guilty, had been 
remanded to his quarters in the tanks beneath, instead of 
obeying the order, remained standing somewhat unsteadily 
upon his feet, leaning heavily upon the dingy wooden 
railing that separated the prisoners' pen from the open 
court, and which he had grasped with both hands. The 
Bailiff indignantly repeated the order, pointing imperi- 
ously to the open door leading to the hell of sin and 
shame and foul air below. The Judge, persuaded that 
the prisoner had failed to comprehend his decree, repeat- 
ed it in more decisive tones. 

" If it please the Court! " 

Obviously the criminal at the bar had something to say, 
and was determined to be heard. The Judge frowned 
down upon him from his elevated seat, whose massive 
carvings and wine-colored canopy invested his august fig- 
ure with a subtle air of sanctity calculated to awe the 
average spectator. 

The Bailiff, aghast at the audacity of the prisoner, dis- 
charged a volley of energetic demands for silence in the 
court, with the result of hushing the rowdy element in 

the rear and drawing the attention of every one present to 
the spot, but failed to repress the criminal, who stood in 
the dock, borne down with a singular physical weakness, 
but stout of spirit and determined to be heard. From 
distant recesses of the court-room several faces peered 
forward in anxious expectancy, assured that the moment 
had at last arrived when Hale was about to make a state- 
ment that would vindicate his honor and carry conviction 
of his innocence to the minds of all who listened. Dart- 
moor, who leaned idly against the jamb of the outer door- 
way, eyed Hale intently, his demeanor expressive of calm 
unconcern the while. 

"If it please the Court, I have a protest to make. I 
protest against innocent children being thrust into that 
hot-bed of crime below — that festering cancer of cor- 
ruption you call the City Prison. 1 protest against their 
sensitive lungs being forced to inhale the foul air of that 
underground dungeon, their tender feet treading the 
molding stones, their little bodies being bruised by con- 
tact with hard wooden benches when they should be 
tucked into bed in a pure, wholesome atmosphere." 

Unheard of impudence! Outrageous audacity ! That 
a thief should dare to rise in open court and level such 
infamous slanders at a time-honored institution of San 
Francisco, within whose precincts better men than he 
had languished, suffered, sickened and died without com- 
plaint! Away with him to his rightful place in the dark 
cell, where the slime oozes from the stones underfoot, 
and countless millions of bacteria, germs of untold dis- 
ease, coat the walls! 

" I protest against their pure eyes and innocent souls 
being defiled with the horrible sights and sounds witnessed 
at night in the City Prison." 

Two officers hastened to the speaker's side and laid 
their hands roughly upon him, and the Judge, taking ad- 
vantage of the momentary check, interposed a mild re- 
monstrance : 

" Really, Mr. Hale, you are entirely out of order." 

Out of order, Prisoner ! A score of weighty cases are 
ready to be called. Opposite stands a gallant young 
member of the force, who captured a half-dozen opium 
lay-outs last night, and the eager people strain their eyes 
for a glimpse of the curious implements of intoxication, 
while a score of pig-tailed Mongolians wait to swell the 
City Treasury with their glittering double eagles, before 
starting out to ply their infamous trade in new and hid- 
den quarters. The drunken Irishman who hit his wife 
over the head with a billet of wood, has reserved a rich 
fund of Hibernian eloquence with which to regale the 
waiting audience, when he rises to speak in his own be- 
half. The red-faced, goggle-eyed hoodlum who relieved 
a mansion on Van Ness avenue of its newly manu- 
factured heirloom of family plate last month, has en- 
gaged able counsel to argue in his behalf. The drunken 
sailor, robbed and beaten by a boarding-house keeper 
for refusing to ship on a deep-sea vessel, must be con- 
signed to San Quentin for a goodly number of years, on 
the charge of employing a deadly weapon to resist the 
persuasions of his well-meaning friends — fitting rebuke to 
a miscreant who has had the temerity to assert that the 
boarding-house runners are part and parcel of that hon- 
orable body, the United States Shipping Commission! 
The pair of yellow-haired courtesans will thankfully 
accept a month's incarceration in the House of Cor- 
rection, to recuperate from the effect of last night's orgie. 
In the presence of weighty matters of this ilk, what 
claims has innocent childhood to the consideration of a 
tribunal of justice?" 

But what is this? The prisoner shaking off the de- 
taining grasp of the officers, standing firm and erect in 
the dock, his eyes ablaze with indignation and his voice 
ringing throughout the hall in warning and appeal. 

" I invoke the humanity of our people, the holy in- 
stincts of parental love, the honor of this court, to see 
that this outrage upon civilization is no longer tol- 

" Mr. Hale, I have no responsibility in the matter." 
The Judge is constrained to answer the indictment at 
last. An angry murmur arises from the crowd, but the 
officers of the law are not slow to express their impatience 
and disgust. 

Shameless effrontery ! Brazen insolence! The prison- 
er yields at last to the fierce demands of the Bailiff, and 
consents to be escorted to his subterranean residence. 

And the children — stray lambs, lost for a time from the 
parental fold, while anguished mothers scour the streets 
in vain for a trace of the tiny wanderers ! These little 
waifs, as well as the wee mischief-doers bred in unsavory 
precincts of the city, or careless urchins who play on, 
forgetful that the fatal hour of eight has chimed, con- 
tinued to be gathered into the reeking atmosphere of the 
prison, where all night long they occupied a cage in full 
view of the demons of drink and sin who were hauled in 
from the street. Their open cage adjoined another of 
similar construction, where sinning women made the air 
hideous with their blasphemous shouts. A night spent in 
this proximity is a liberal education in evil. A lifetime 
of patient schooling will not suffice to wipe away its 
lessons of degradation. 

And the criminal population of San Francisco swelled 
from year to year. Clergymen in the pulpit, orators 
upon the rostrum, and writers in the editorial chair, dis- 

cussed the momentous question of the causes govern- 
ing the increase of the hoodlum classes, and tender 
mothers prayed that they might close the coffin-lids over 
the loved faces of their children, rather than some 
caprice of fate should condemn the innocents for a single 
night to the training school of iniquity underlying the 
Old City Hall. 

As the heavy iron door of the cell swung upon its 
hinges, Hale drew back with a questioning look, for 
another bed had been made upon the shelf at the side, 
and upon the rude bunk a man reclined in an easy atti- 
tude, his head resting in his hand. The guard, a man 
thoroughly imbued with the dignity of his position, was 
unable to conceal his disgust at this unconscious move- 
ment of the prisoner he had in tow. 

"Get in and be d d, you devil of an aristocrat! 

Want the city to furnish you with a high-toned suit of 
rooms, all to yourself, don't you? 'Taint enough style to 
have your meals served three times a day in your apart- 
ment, but you'll be calling for oysters and chicken salad 
— yes, and plum-pudding, by Ginger ! " 

Unheeding the turnkey's bullying tone, Hale had 
walked quietly into the cell, and heard the key click in 
the lock. The newcomer had risen to his feet, with the 
air of a man accustomed to a punctilious observance of 
the etiquette of prison life, and, with a gracious sweep of 
his hand, waived his claim to the stool which constituted 
the solitary furniture of the apartment. Hale obeyed this 
silent invitation, and the two men steadily regarded each 
other. The stranger was a man not far from his own age, 
with a frank, good-natured face, and a head that bespoke 
much latent intellectual capacity of a practical, prosaic 
character. His coarse sandy hair was cropped close to his 
head, the suspicion of a reddish beard adorned his chin 
and upper lip, and when he spoke there was a slight trace 
of the mother brogue in his utterance. His genial blue 
eyes searched Hale's face with a slow dawn of recogni- 
tion, which widened into a startled look that was not with- 
out a tinge of self-congratulation. 

" Ef it ain't Larry Hale ! " 

Hale greeted the announcement with a puzzled expres- 
sion, and tried to think where he had met the man before, 
conning over the list of itinerant gardeners and journey- 
men who had been at one time and another in his father's 
employ, but was forced to concede that his memory was 
at fault. A shade of annoyance passed over his com- 
rade's face. 

" Now don't be after sayin' ye can't remember, Master 
Larry. Rest a bit, while I give your thinkin' machinery 
a lift. Recollect whin you lived at the old place at the 
Mission — the big house with the iron fence and the young 
deer on the lawn? Right. And a block further down 
the street was the small corner-grocery, where the women 
of the neighborhood went for flour and sugar and salera- 
tus, and the men for their beer and baccy. Good! Now 
don't ye mind the avenin' one summer that you stepped 
in on some trifling errand, quite late — the first night of the 
big fair for St. Francis's Chapel, on Twenty-fourth and 
Valencia, and the Industrial School band — seein' it were 
a worthy relaygious charity — was sent over there to play? " 

Hale's face brightened with the recurrence of some 
long-forgotten recollection, and his cellmate burst into a 
low, exulting laugh. 

"I thought I'd bring the thing back bright as day, 
Master Larry. Lord, how you did give it to the old rascal 
that kept the shop, and promise howly retribution to the 
taycher that had us youngsters under his wing, for lettin' 
the old man set up the drinks for us little fellows ! I can 
see Robinson now, white to the lips, and shaking in his 
boots for fear you'd betray him, and he'd loose his foine 
salary. Lord bless ye, 'twasn't the first time the band 
had washed down their throats with beer and whisky, nor 
the last time neither, by a long shot." 

He was silent for a moment, then resumed his good- 
natured and garrulous talk. 

" Not that I'd be after talking in an uncivil way of an 
institution so dear to the citizens at large, and so profit- 
able to the politicians of the city, as the one I'm namin'. 
Sure I'd be an ungrateful chap to do so, for there I was 
housed and fed and clothed, and taught after the fashion 
of the devil's own heart, a matter of fourteen odd years. 
Of course you know, Master Larry, being born and bred 
in this glorious place, that when the law claps its hand 
on a lad for any little roguery, he's sent to the school till 
he's twenty-one, unless belike he has somebody with a bit of 
influence in the ward to intersayde for him with the Super- 
visors. My old mother might as well have tried to swape 
back the waves of the say with her broom as to move them 
with her pitiful cries. I served out my sintence, Master 
Larry, barring a couple of weeks skulkin' round the sand- 
hills, when a brace of us managed to scale the wall one 
dark night, to our everlasting misery when we were hauled 
back. A nice pill, now, wasn't it, sir, for touching a 
match to a pile of straw in the back yard at home, with 
niver a thought of the wooden fence that was too near? 
Fourteen years in that stinking puddle of wickedness, 
by the side of which the State Prison is a daycent and 
respectable place! and begorry I ought to know, for I've 
had a fair trial of both, and am in a fair way to go up the 
bay again," and he laughed carelessly. 

" But sure, Master Larry, if you didn't kape account 
of the blowing-up you gave the band-master, you'll be 
after seeing my name quite frequent in the papers. And 


did you niver notice what was said of the doings of 
Stubbs, the housebreaker? " He spoke in an indifferent 
tone, and his companion failed to observe the eager pride 
in his face, the anxiety with which he awaited a reply. 

" I don't recollect, I'm sure," said Hale. 

"Oh, but think a moment, sir! Michael Stubbs, 
ailyus Mickey the Irishman, ailyus Red-headed Jack, 
ailyus Stubbs, the crack burglar of the coast. Ha'in't you 
niver heard none of them names? " 

Stubbs was well nigh frantic with disappointment and 
humiliation. Had a lifetime of consistent rascality and 
unremitting defiance of the law of the land then been 
ineffectual to lift him above the obscurity of the common 
herd? Were fame and distinction such worthless baubles 
that one of his own townsmen could not so much as 
recognize any of his varied appellations? 

"I think," said Hale, slowly, " that I have heard of 
Red-headed Jack. Didn't he have something to do with 
that affair at Colonel Windom's, on Pine street, some 
weeks ago, when a complete sweep was made of all the 
gas and plumbing fixtures in the house, during the 
family's absence? " 

The burglar slapped his knee as a token of his hearty 

" Right you are, sir! Here's the boy that did that very 

Hale had listened idly to these queer biographical 
reminiscences and libelous reflections upon one of San 
Francisco's most venerated institutions, speculating upon 
the inherent qualities and outward influences which had 
contributed to mold a character seemingly" so destitute 
of the ordinary instincts of manhood, as to stand con- 
fessed of a career without a single redeeming act or trace 
of honest ambition. He was surprised to see the careless 
manner thrown off like a mask. 

"And now, Master Larry, for what have the divils 
been takin' you up? " 

It was so plain that his fellow-prisoner conceived him 
to be the victim of some base conspiracy, that Hale felt 
unaccountably embarrassed and humiliated. It was by 
no means a pleasant duty to confess his guilt to a man 
who had evidently for years regarded him as an example 
of fearless moral heroism. 

"It isn't an agreeable thing to be or to tell, Stubbs. 
Two months ago I had a position of trust in the Bank of 
Yerba Buena. To-day I am here for making away with 
funds under my charge." 

" But you niver did it." 

Stubbs's voice held a menace as well as an emphatic 
denial. Hale felt himself weakening. It was difficult to 
muster a vigorous feeling of partisanship in the advocacy 
of his own guilt. 

"I am sorry to disappoint you, Stubbs," he said, 
weakly, " but I can't deny the truth. I'm sure I'd be 
only too glad if it wasn't so." 

" Do you think I don't know a thafe when I see him? " 
demanded Stubbs, with a rare mixture of sternness and 
drollery. Sure I have the opportunity of looking at one 
of the rogues ivery morning of my life that I've a glass to 
dress by. No, Master Larry, you can't fool an old hand 
like me. You niver laid a finger on the money. You're 
taking the blame for somebody else." 

This unexpected mark of confidence from a man he 
had never seen in his life but once before, affected Hale. 
He made a final effort to convince the housebreaker of 
his criminality. 

" I wish with all my heart that your faith was better 
founded, Stubbs. Three months ago it would have 
made me very happy to know that a stranger would 
believe in me under such suspicious circumstances. Now, 
I should be a worse scoundrel than I am if I allowed you 
to think me innocent. I took the money myself. No- 
body else had part or parcel in the deed." 

" Then," said the housebreaker, rising to his feet, his 
face dark and wrathful, " there is a woman in the case." 

Hale had no reply to make to this charge. The face 
that haunted him day and night rose again before his 
vision, fair and winning in its beauty. Stubbs saw that 
his accusation had struck home. 

" Curse 'em ! Curse 'em ! " he muttered. " Don't they 
bring damnation enough to men already on the road to 
hell, to leave the honest ones alone? " 



The prominent social position of the culprit, the irre- 
proachable character he had hitherto sustained, together 
with the daring nature of the theft, and the commercial 
standing of the corporation he had so adroitly victimized, 
invested Hale's case with considerable celebrity. 

The commencement of the trial in the District Court 
was a field-day for the newspapers, whose representatives 
made up a goodly delegation, noting each shade of emo- 
tion that passed over the prisoner's face, and carefully 
treasuring every scrap of gossip bearing upon his social 
life. Many refined people, in whose families Laurence 
Hale had been a frequent and welcome visitor, were an- 
noyed beyond measure at seeing their names paraded be- 
fore the public as intimate associates of the dashing young 
malefactor. Hale made his appearance unattended by 
counsel, but when the full text of the charge was read, 
and he learned that he was accused of the embezzlement 

of twenty-five thousand dollars, he begged leave to amend 
his former plea, answering only to the appropriation of 
two-fifths of the specified sum. 

This proceeding brought down upon him not a little 
ridicule and resentment. It was really very amusing for 
the confessed thief of thousands to stand upon ceremony 
regarding so small a matter. The Judge, who had fore- 
cast a quick trial and swift settlement of the suit, and had 
arranged the cases upon his docket accordingly, was 
vexed almost beyond endurance. The lawyers, disgusted 
from the first at the prisoner's weak capitulation, which 
deprived them of an opportunity for the cunning cross- 
examination and masterly sifting of testimony anticipated 
at the outset, were in no degree mollified by this new turn 
of affairs, which threatened to divert their talents from the 
oratorical channel in which they could be exerted to the 
best advantage, and condemn them to a tedious quest 
after the disposition of the missing funds. The bank 
officials, smarting under the outrageous betrayal of trust 
by a man in whom they had placed implicit confidence, 
were incensed anew by the obstinacy with which he tried 
to force upon them a paradoxical theory. Aside from 
Hale, only three men had access to the bank safe, and 
each of the three had a direct interest in the safe and 
honorable conduct of the affairs of the institution. Two 
of them, the president and cashier, had a heavy capital in- 
vested. The third, Henry Dartmoor, was the nephew of 
the president, and a man of unquestioned honor. Up to 
the time of Hale's sudden flight not a breath of suspicion 
had ever attached to an employe of the bank, and the 
directors had mentioned the fact from time to time with 
commendable pride, and pointed with gratification to 
their ever increasing list of depositors— infallible witness 
to the confidence of the community. 

Many who had been Hale's personal friends, went to 
him and urged him to confess the disposition he had 
made of the surplus sum, arguing that the legal penalty 
would be in nowise altered, and that to a wealthy corpo- 
ration like the bank the appropriation of the greater sum 
would appear no more heinous than the peculation of the 
less. Even Dartmoor, failing in his good-natured attempt 
to save his friend from the humiliation of penal disgrace, 
counseled him to make a clean breast of the whole trans- 
action. But the prisoner remained obdurate. 

At the end of the first day's proceedings, Hale's fellow- 
prisoner received him with eager expectancy. Failing to 
receive a voluntary confidence from his mate, his curi- 
osity escaped restraint. . 

" Was She there? " he anxiously queried. 

"She! Who?" 

" She — the woman." 

" No." 

" Have to keep out of the way for fear she'll get 
nabbed by the cops? " 

" Look here, Stubbs," said Hale, with dignified re- 
sentment, " don't you ever refer to this matter again in 
such a fashion. You don't understand the case at all. 
She has done nothing." 

"Just like the rest of 'em — dead gone on her, and no 
use praching to him," sagely commented the house- 
breaker. "Thinks there's not another lass alive fit to 
tep in her shoes, and all that sort of thing. But you 
hear me, Master Larry, some of 'em '11 show a hape of 
grit, sticking to their men through thick and thin. 
There's Jimmy Black's little girl, Hepsy — the boys call 
her Hep for short — she's the one that niver missed a day 
when he was up for crackin' Goodhue's safe, last year; 
and when he went off on the boat — a triflin' business of 
my own called me up to San Quentin the same day — 
there was the young craycher on the pier, kissin' the 
bracelets on his wrists, if you'll belayve me, and the last 
thing we saw was her waving her handkerchief that was 
drippin' with her tears. While this girl of yours — the 
ungrateful, traycherous wench " 

Stubbs was afforded no opportunity to complete his 
sentence. Hale sprang to his feet, his face livid with 
passion, and twisting his hand in the burglar's collar, gave 
him a kick that stretched him full length upon the floor. 

A turnkey in the passage outside heard the sound of 
the fall, and rushing to the door, peered through the 
grating, only to see Hale standing with blazing eyes at 
the side of the cell, while Stubbs, with a dazed look, 
raised himself to a sitting posture on the floor. 

" What's the row in there? You two trying to murder 
each other? " 

" Nary a bit, my friend," jovially responded the house- 
breaker. " You see, my airly education's been nig- 
licted, and Mr. Hale here's been givin' me a lisson in 
eticat. Try him yourself some day. Your manners are 
in nade of improvement." 

To the few who believed Hale's statements, the trial 
presented a curious and pathetic spectacle. On the one 
hand the young fellow, so lately an honored and 
respected member of society, standing alone and defense- 
less, bowed down beneath the humiliating consciousness 
of crime, whose self-accusing reproaches could be 
augumented by no legal edict or popular verdict, eager 
only to have the trial ended and sentence passed, that he 
might shoulder his burden of shame and penance, and 
apply himself to a philosophical solution of the problem 
of existence. The maze of doubt and distrust with which 
his statements were received at times confused his mind, 

and rendered him incapable of intelligent reflection ; but 
he aided the prosecution to the full extent of his power, 
recounting with painful exactitude the story of his mis- 
deeds ; relating, like a man in the toils of some hideous 
dream, his initial steps in dishonesty; exhibiting in open 
court a small account-book, wherein the various sums he 
had appropriated and disbursed were entered with absurd 
fidelity for, like many another rascal who has robbed his 
master and met his deserts at the hands of the law, his 
original design had apparently been to merely borrow the 
money for purposes of speculation, and to replace it be- 
fore its loss should be detected. So far as they went, his 
statements were corroborated by his brokers — honest men 
as stock-brokers go, and in no wise accountable for the 
unexpected depression of the market, which betrayed the 
young man's hopes and demolished his golden visions ; 
going to a certain point with his confessions, and no 
further ; unmoved by entreaties or threats, or the scorn- 
ful attitude of the prosecuting attorneys, who on the other 
hand met his frank acknowledgements with incredulous 
smiles and open sarcasm. Dartmoor, who was repeatedly 
called to the stand on behalf of the prosecution, gave his 
testimony with manifest reluctance and a confessed re- 
gard for the prisoner, which touched the latter, and 
aroused the sympathy of spectators. 

When two weeks passed, the prosecution, employing 
the sharpest detectives and most able attorneys, failed to 
discover the slightest trace of the missing money, and 
resolved to abandon the search. 

Throughout the community and among his business 
associates, the general opinion prevailed that Hale had 
either cached the missing sum for future use, or that some 
shameful secret which he feared to disclose, was con- 
nected with its disappearance. Some of his male com- 
panions, with the light disregard of morality which young 
men delight to affect before a large experience of life has 
taught them to value honesty and purity in every relation, 
laughingly repeated Stubbs's assertion that there was a 
woman in the case, and were disposed to look upon 
Hale's sin more leniently, believing him to have shared in 
the almost universal defilement that tarnishes the nobility 
of California manhood. 

The court had no time or inclination for speculation 
upon such themes. For many reasons it was desirable 
that the trial should be brought to a speedy issue. The 
complaint was amended, the prisoner was promptly con- 
victed of the embezzlement of ten thousand dollars, and 
one sultry September day sentence was passed on the 
guilty man. 

The Judge who presided over the court in which Lau- 
rence Hale was tried, and whose province in our tale has 
hitherto been to sit with lofty dignity upon his elevated 
throne, to listen gravely to the evidence and rule upon 
trivial points of law, was a man of remarkable character. 
Possessed of rare legal acumen, a finely balanced and 
judicial mind, he added to these traits an impressive per- 
sonal presence, and oratorical gifts that had early achieved 
distinction for him in his pleadings at the bar. Upon the 
bench he discharged his duties with a fidelity that for the 
time divested him of every personal sympathy and human 
weakness, meting out justice to evil-doers with such an un- 
sparing and impartial hand that he had become the terror 
of the criminal class, and was known far and near as the 
" Iron Judge." 

There was something leonine in his aspect as he rose to 
pass sentence upon the prisoner — in his massive head, his 
corrugated brow, his Roman nose and inflated nostrils — his 
sullen eye brooding with the portent of a coming storm. 
As he swept the court-room with his glance the prisoner 
quailed beneath his look, a wave of excitement passed 
over the spectators, and the lawyers shriveled with an 
humbling realization of their petty aims, their unworthy 
subterfuges, and their greed and insincerity. 

He began with a review of the testimony that had been 
presented during the trial — a recital so mechanical in 
composition, so emotionless in its analysis, so metalic in 
utterance, that a superficial hearer would have predicted 
a calm and dispassionate conclusion ; yet when he had 
finished his summary, the criminal breach of faith, in all 
its black hideousness, was imprinted on every heart. 
The Judge paused, reaching out his hand to take up a 
small volume of the Civil Code of the state, fluttering the 
leaves with a contemptuous motion, then tossing the 
book back to its original place. 

" In the face of the conclusive proof that has been pre- 
sented during thistrial, and his own unqualified confession 
as well, I can do no less than find the prisoner guilty of the 
charge. Guilty ! An unscrupulous thief, lost to all prin- 
ciples of honor, treacherous to those who have befriended 
him! a moral firebrand among his associates! Guilty! 
But what can we do with him? 

" What is the extreme penalty of the law for his offense? 
Ten years of idleness in the penitentiary of the state, 
comfortably housed, well fed, neatly clothed, treated with 
more consideration and respect than the average honest 
laborer of our city, under a discipline less rigid than that 
of the private soldier, virtually unrestricted in his com- 
munications with family and friends, and with an excel- 
lent chance of being pardoned out on the next change of 
the administration. What terrors does such a doom hold 
for the criminal? 

" Our system of prison management is radically wrong. 



Seclusion and separation should be the first principle 
of intelligent penitentiary government. No intercourse 
with the outside world should be permitted. The pris- 
oner should be debarred from correspondence with family 
or friends. Not a single current newspaper should ever 
be received within the walls. Unless our prison directors 
imbibe sufficient severity of doctrine to make the institu- 
tions under their charge a deterrent influence upon ill- 
doers instead of a refuge for paupers and lawbreakers, the 
criminal element of our state will increase with such 
rapidity that it will overwhelm the land, and erase every 
vestige of virtue and honor. 

" I regard the prisoner at the bar as one of the most 
pernicious examples ever presented to the youth of our 
fair city. He is a moral leper in the community, whose 
career will exert an infectious influence wherever its 
knowledge reaches. The excellent character he has 
hitherto borne, instead of constituting a redeeming fea- 
ture ol the case, renders his crime the more heinous, and 
his example the more perilous to society. While applying 
the utmost rigor of the law, and condemning him to serve 
ten years behind the bars of San Quentin, I have no hesi- 
tation in saying that if it were in my power to increase the 
severity of the legal penalty of his crime, I would stipu- 
late that he should be placed in solitary confinement, and 
sentence him for life." 

The great speech was ended, and the Judge wiped his 
forehead. Attorneys smiled their appreciation of one of 
the most unique opinions ever delivered in a California 
court. No one who looked upon the inexorable face of 
the Iron Judge would have credited the fact that not a 
month before, discovering a systematic series of petty 
thefts on the part of his own confidental clerk — pecula- 
tions extending over a term of years — he had not dis- 
dained to shed a tear or so in secret, and had dismissed 
the fellow with a fatherly admonition, offering him a free 
field in which to retrieve his misdeeds. Precept and prac- 
tice do not always go hand in hand, particularly when the 
precept inculcates a lesson of stern justice, and a great 
heart rules the man. 

And the prisoner, the reprehensible sinner who added 
to his other iniquities the unpardonable crime of possess- 
ing a hitherto unblemished moral character? Score 
another in the black category of his sins ! 

Not content with sapping the moral foundations of San 
Francisco society, he must conclude his public career with 
a lame spectacular effect. Shameful prostitution of dra- 
matic purpose! Nauseous appeal to the sympathy of the 
spectators ! Puerile exhibition of physical weakness ! 
Overcome by an appalling realization of the consequences 
of his crime, weighed down with a hopeless sense of the 
degradation he has incurred, the rascal has fainted in the 

( To be continued.) 


Editor San Franciscan : I have observed that what- 
ever time you select to visit most cities, some one is sure 
to tell you you ought to have come a month earlier or a 
month later. Here in Washington, when our visitors 
come in the winter, we say, " Oh, you ought to see Wash- 
ington in the spring "; and when they come in the spring, 
we say " You ought to have come during the season." 
But those who have relinquished the joys of the season 
for the sake of coming in the spring this year, can cer- 
tainly see no reason to regret their choice. True, they 
have had to forego the rapture of being pounded to a 
poultice by the jostling crowd at official receptions, and 
the agreeable alternative of either having their clothing 
torn to shreds by squeezing through a mass of people 
about as easy to penetrate as a stone wall, or remaining 
fixed in one corner, with no outlook for several hours be- 
yond the back-hair and shoulder blades of the woman in 
front of them. 

But, on the other hand, in place of these fascinations 
they see the town itself at its very prettiest. Although 
winter has not only lingered in the lap of spring, but bids 
fair to remain in that of summer, we have decided to go 
by the calendar instead of the thermometer, and call it 

In the shop windows, silks and velvets have been dis- 
placed by airy muslins and the gayest of unfurled para- 
sols. In the numerous parks the smooth green turf shines 
in the sun, and the great beds of tulips and hyacinths 
flame out in dazzling scarlet and purple and gold, at 
which every woman who passes casts longing eyes, only 
restrained from swooping down upon them by fear of the 
authorities. 1 don't believe the woman exists who thinks 
it any harm to pick flowers, wherever she sees them or 
whoever own them. 

In the parks at twilight are seen those surest harbin- 
gers of spring, belated twos, dawdling slowly along or 
sitting on cold iron benches, staring at each other, and 
blindly oblivious of the fact that the red nose which 
accompanies a cold in the head is far from beautifying. 
We know it is spring, too, by hearing beneath our win- 
dows the plaintive notes of the — 

Grinder who serenely grindeth 
At our door the hundredth psalm, 

Till he ultimately findeth 
Pence in his unwashed palm. 

In Washington every one takes his afternoon walk on 
the Avenue as religiously as he goes to church on Sun- 
day, and actuated by much the same motive — to see 
other people. The hard-working society-girl of this sea- 
son can rest from her labors, and take a little innocent 
recreation ; and so we see her boned down and strapped 
back in her rigidly tight plain gown, with a big bunch of 
jonquils stuck casually on in front, and a hat of monu- 
mental height, sauntering down the Avenue — shopping a 
little, staring in at the windows a great deal, or stopping 
in gay, chattering groups at the corner. She looks, as a 
rule, rather haggard, and here and there we see one who 
has not disdained to assist nature with the hand of art, 
to add a touch of color to her white cheeks or a dash of 
black around her dull eyes; but she has a rather arduous 
time, poor thing ! so we ought not to blame her. 

All the winter she has had to dash madly from a break- 
fast to a luncheon, from there to two or three teas and 
receptions, filling in the chinks with calls ; home for a 
hasty change of toilet, and then out again to a dinner, 
followed by as many germans as she can crowd in, for 
she must be seen at all the good places. You may speak 
with the tongues of men and of angels, and if you are 
not " met out " you are of even less value than sounding 
brass or a tinkling cymbal. Fortunately the society girl 
is not required to be conversationally brilliant. If she is 
moderately good-looking, dresses and dances well, she is 
a success. For conversation, she talks about where she 
went last night and where she will go to-morrow ; about 
what is playing at the theaters; and she may speak — with 
caution, however — about the last new novel, if it be a very 
light one. If she goes beyond these subjects she puzzles 
her partners, and is pronounced " so odd, you know." 
As the immortal Mrs. Poyser remarks, " I'm not denyin' 
the women are fools; God Almighty made 'em to match 
the men." 

Every one knows that American architecture, if there 
is such a thing, has gone mad in Washington. The 
broad streets and avenues, especially of the northwest 
end, are lined with Queen Anne cottages, Swiss chalets, 
Norman castles, and ancient baronial halls, which have 
the effect of having been standing since the middle ages, 
although every one knows they were only built day before 
yesterday, so to speak. The effect is not at all unpleasant, 
even interspersed as they are with Indian wigwams, Afri- 
can bungalows, Esquimau igloos, and other eccentric 
styles of architecture. The main idea of each person 
building a new house seems to be to make it entirely 
different from any other human habitation ever before 
erected. One householder, Colonel John Hay, even goes 
so far as to have in his elegant new residence on H street, 
the first floor front for the kitchen. Of course, this is 
only treating his cook with proper respect, but not all 
employers are so well trained. 

One of the most elegant among all the beautiful homes 
in Washington will be the new house now being built by 
Mrs. Patton, of San Francisco. She has bought a square 
large enough for the house to stand in the midst of quite 
extensive grounds, and so far up town that there is no 
possibility of the city growing too far beyond it. Some 
years ago, when Senator Stewart built the big, ugly yellow 
pile known as Stewart Castle, it seemed quite beyond the 
limits of civilization, and out on the open prairie. Now 
its staring yellow is toned down with brown paint, and it 
stands decorously among rows of dignified neighbors 
instead of conspicuously alone. Mrs. Patton's house will 
be far beyond it; indeed very near Rock creek, the pretty, 
stony, shady little stream which is the limit of the city's 
possibility westward, for beyond that is West Washington, 
or, as all the old residents call it, Georgetown. When it 
is finished the great, beautiful house will no doubt be a 
prominent social center, for Mrs. Patton is rich, not only 
in house and lands but in four beautiful daughters. 

By this time the Washington Monument is ancient 
history, for we have all grown so accustomed to the tall 
shaft glittering in impressive white simplicity against the 
blue of the sky ; but the people in Wales are still inter- 
ested enough to have sent their little contribution. It 
seems a pity that it should travel all the way from Wales 
to blush comparatively unseen in the interior of the mon- 
ument, where the only observers will be those who, hav- 
ing risked their lives in the elevator, are entirely absorbed 
in calculating how many, or rather how few, chances they 
have of getting down alive. It is a highly polished piece 
of black granite, the interest in which is enhanced by the 
fact that it was prepared by John G. Smith, the last lineal 
descendant of the tuneful Cadwallader, and also by the 
fact that on it are inscribed the following graceful and 
touching lines : 

Fy Quaith, Fy Mgwlad, Fy Nglwad, 
Cymry Am Byth. 

Elise Hathaway. 

Washington, May 6, 1885. 


The Palette Club is whizzing along the down grade. 
Bang! over she goes, and that's the end of it. Peace^ to 
its memory ! We know it had war enough when living. 
In after times, when we rack our brains for vivid com- 
parisons, we will say "As crazy as an artist," "As turbu- 

lent as a Palette Club," "As loony as a President of 
painters." Thus the club will not have lived in vain. 
It will have enriched the language by a few phrases which 
may be inelegant, but shall not lack point. " Out, out, 
brief candle." Lord, what a spluttering you made while 
you were burning! 

Let us review the last days of the party about to die. 
The Palette Club latterly has not been a strictly sym- 
metrical embodiment. It has reminded me of those 
funny photographs they patch up in the cheap galleries; 
you surely have seen them. They have tiny bodies wild- 
ly gyrating, and large heads. They keep the bodies in 
stock, and take the heads from life. The Palette Club has 
recently been, like these photographs, all head— that is to 
say, all President. The small body has long been unob- 
trusively kicking ; but it got along well enough until they 
put this head on it. Now it is dying from that disease so 
common among artists of all kinds, and known in simple 
parlance as "cranial elephantiasis." That President 
should die happy when he reflects how many have been 
sacrificed to make him great; how the body has dwindled 
while the head has swelled. It is sad to think what will 
become of this President when he can no longer preside. 
The body may die right up to the neck, but that head 
will never let go. An autocrat he has made himself, and 
he will stick to it like the Russian, who can only be loos- 
ened by dynamite. 

It is likely that this body, as soon as it has kicked its 
last, will be re-incorporated and enter again into the bosom 
of Buddha, i. <?., the Art Association. We call it Bud- 
dha because it is slow enough to be an embodiment of 
eternal repose. But no matter. It is the best refuge 
there is, and it now promises to hold its arms forever open 
by establishing a permanent exhibition. 

Meanwhile it is modestly suggested that the President 
enthrone himself upon the Farallones, and pass resolu- 
tions that he is the King of Seagulls and sole exponent of 
the ocean. 

I dropped in to see Barkhaus and Rodriguez the other 
day. They were pegging away in the studio over the 
Clay Street Bank. Barkhaus is the man who has drawn 
many cutting and brilliantly satirical caricatures for the 
Wasp. He has a way of representing Pixley by a hooked 
nose, a round owl eye, and a benevolent smile. It don't 
write up very well, but it looks more like Pixley than 
Pixley looks like himself. When Barkhaus draws Sarah 
Althea, he shows a glimpse of the siren who once had 
power to warm a desiccated bosom into imprudence, 
while he boldly exposes to the public view the skeleton 
that underlies the senatorial toga. No one but Barkhaus 
has ever expressed the Japanese eyes and full, waving 
smile of Emma Abbott ; and with a few dots and dashes 
he has been known to change an excelsior ballet into a 
collection of more or less Apollos from the Bohemian 
Club. I always wanted to see Barkhaus. I felt some- 
how that he was a fire-eater. What bravery, what dar- 
ing, to thus so trenchantly expose the faults and follies of 
the wealthy and powerful ! What superhuman courage 
he must have ! If I were Barkhaus I should be afraid that 
Pixley would some day out upon me and stab me with a 
column ; or that Senator Sharon would buy me, body and 
bones, and burn me up for kindling ; or that Sarah Althea 
would bring thirty-five or forty lawsuits against me; or 
Emma Abbott would come down and butter me with 
a gush, and wreathe me in her plethoric fascinations 
until my brush was paralyzed. But it is evident that 
Barkhaus does not stand in awe. The great and power- 
ful do not obliterate him, and he lives on. I have pict- 
ured him a swarthy giant with beetling brows, tracing 
upon the stone with a bowie-knife. In the apt subtlety 
of his hits I have recognized a keen shrewdness that only 
comes with years and experience. I have always been 
able to see the man in imagination as distinctly as if he 
were before me — a middle-aged fire-eater with a bad eye. 

Well, as I have remarked before, I dropped up to see 
Barkhaus. I saw him. I have given up prophesy and 
rented out my imagination. I saw a slim young lad, with 
a boyish, intelligent face, and a polite and almost timid 
manner. Brunette? Not a bit of it. He has eyes of 
tender blue, and the budding fuzz upon his upper lip will, 
when it grows, match his hair, blonde as a baby's. 
Presently fie sat down to his little table and quietly began 
to work. I looked over his shoulder. In the most 
deferential manner he was tracing a biting sarcasm on a 
prominent millionaire. He did it so sweetly, so inno- 
cently, so entirely without evil intention, that could the 
millionaire know how it was done I am sure he could 
never take offense. 

Afterward I made some inquiries as to this innocent 
dispenser of lithographic nitro-glycerine. They tell me 
that he has an affectionate admiration for Senator Sharon ; 
that he has the utmost affection for Mr. Pixley, although 
he has never seen him, having gained his impressions 
from a photograph. It is rumored that he is mild and 
peaceful of soul, having no convictions in favor of or 
against any man or measure. It is said that he obeys his 
parents and his employer, doing as a matter of duty the 
work that is set before him. These rumors are probably 
for the most part true. Yet, for all his blonde youthful- 
ness, he has an aquiline n»se which fortells, in the esti- 
mation of Napoleon and myself, that some day he will 
show himself something of a Roman— possibly something 
of a general. " By their works ye shall know them " has 
come to be as thoroughly exploded an idea as that of 
having faith that a woman's back-hair is her own, or that 
politicians go to Washington to serve their country. 

Fingal Buchanan. 




Oh, mickle is the power that lies 

In plants, herbs, stones and their true qualities. 

The vales shall laugh in flowers, the woods 
Grow misty green with leafing buds, 
And violets and wild flowers sway 
Against the throbbing heart of May. — IVhittier. 

There is a great charm in growing plants in water. 
Some of our ordinary houseplants may be grown with suc- 
cess in this way, so that any one who chooses can have a 
plant aquarium in the window. Where there are goldfish, 
the tank or globe will answer for some plants, and those 
introduced will benefit the fish also by keeping the water 
in better condition for them. As to suitable plants, the 
calla, among common ones, may be placed at the head 
of the list. Either the ordinary species or its dwarf va- 
riety, or the near relative with spotted leaves, known as 
the ricliandia, are adapted for the purpose. Of these I 
think the dwarf calla will generally be found most suit- 
able. Hyacinthes and other bulbs that have been brought 
forward, either in glasses or in soil, may be added to the 
aquatic collection, Those taken from the soil must first 
have their roots cleaned. The bulbs should be suspended 
over the water by means of wire holders, so that only the 
extreme base and the roots of each will enter the water. 
Thus the bulbs will grow and flower very well. Growing 
branches of the tradesc anthia or Wandering Jew will 
thrive in water by inserting the lower ends in the element, 
ment. The pickerel weed from the ponds is also a hand- 
some aquatic for the house. 

About the house, as well as within it, the atmosphere 
which we call an "air of home "is an alluring charm 
whenever it really exists. And why should not the earth 
which frames the dwelling, be it ever so limited, bear the 
sweetest of flowers? In spots unvisited by the sun may 
be placed attractive grasses, and varieties of caressing foli- 
age that grow even more vigorously when in the shade, 
touching with beauty and tenderness the border of a lim- 
ited walk. This office is performed with as much grace 
and effectiveness as if the hard boundary lines were the 
friendliest of protections, so kindly is the foliage that 
creeps along the shady places. Suppose the person who 
is making a home has the house built upon a city lot, with 
only a wee bit of spare ground at the back ; and suppose, 
too, that even this scrap of earth lies upon the north side 
of the house, where sunbeams are unable to drop down 
as a benediction to the soil. There is the dearest spot 
for the ivy to climb and make all things beautiful without 
demanding space for itself. 

Never feel discouraged about flowers, if you can only 
secure sunshine for them. If weeds will thrive of their 
own free will, flowers certainly should at the bidding and 
tending of an intelligent hand. Shrubs that flower in 
their season, and which are beautiful in form or foliage, 
should be planted with a clear appreciation of vistas 
and spaces. Those who desire seclusion may prefer to 
depend upon hardy vines, such as the honeysuckle, trum- 
pet-vine, Virginia-creeper, white and purple wisteria, etc. 
The climbing rose is no longer in favor because of the 
fondness worms and spiders have for it, and the great care 
it demands. Do not choose large growths in the hope of 
earlier maturity, because a small vigorous shrub or vine 
will attain large proportions sooner after transplanting 
than one with older roots. While waiting for the growth 
of hardy vines, there are many annuals which climb rap- 
idly that may be utilized, such as the cypress-vine, can- 
ary-vine, morning-glory and nasturtium, the seeds of which 
may be planted early. They thrive rapidly, and die in 
the autumn. Japanese ivy and the Madeira-vine, with its 
numberless odoriferous white blossoms, are also among 
the swift climbers, and the bulb of the latter increases in 
size and number of tubers from year to year. The Vir- 
ginia-creeper climbs to the height of seventy or eighty 
feet under favorable circumstances, but this creeping up- 
ward is not the result of a single year's growth. The wis- 
teria comes from China, and is said to possess great 

No mention is here made of new and strange flowers, 
because the old ones are always pretty, and are known to 
be of sure growth in our climate. If the lady gardener 
desire novelties, she should seek advice about their 
growth from a professional gardener. There are newly 
imported treasures coming upon us from year to year, 
but with flowers, as with people, we become really fond 
of them only as we become well acquianted with them. 
Many amateur gardeners enjoy experimenting with their 
plants, and this occupation is extremely interesting, but 
it is well to give a very limited space to these non-profes- 
sional attempts, and use only such seeds and plants as 
have been tried and can be trusted. 

Light-weight wraps claim the attention early. For 
this purpose there is provided a great variety of soft, fine 
woolen materials, small checks, subdued plaids, and al- 
most invisible stripes. These are made up more com- 
monly for misses with collar and cuffs of velvet. There 
are many plain-colored materials in dark brown, green, 
blue and gray. There seems to be no marked style of 
construction for common use. The tight-fitting redingote, 
the Newmarket and the Russian circular, are all worn for 
long wraps. For dressy wear wraps are decidedly short. 

These are of plain, brocaded and /rise fabrics, combined 
with lace grenadine or jet passementerie. Silk chenille 
fringe as well as all widths of laces are used for trimming. 
In these mantles the sleeves form a large part of the gar- 
ment, and are usually highly ornamented. The lace wrap 
which best deserves to be called stylish is shirred in a 
deep yoke, and falls in flat plaits concealing the skirt 
to the hem. It requires some grace and a certain air of 
distinction to prevent one's friends from saying that the 
garment looks like a dressing-gown, but when worn by a 
woman to whose figure it is adapted, it is really elegant. 

One of the recent improvements in the production of 
lace is the introduction of shaded tints in the flowers and 
patterns, giving them the relief of a picture. This effect 
is produced by varying the application of the two stitches 
used in making the flowers— the toile, which' forms the 
close tissue, and the grille, employed in the open part of 
the pattern. The system is so successfully applied to the 
lace of France that it has been adopted with the greatest 
success. There is a legend regarding the introduction of 
this manufacture into Flanders. A poverty-stricken but 
pious young girl was dying of love for a young man whose 
wealth precluded all hopes of marriage. One night, as 
she sat weeping at her sad fate, a beautiful lady entered 
the cottage and, without saying a word, placed on her 
knees a green cloth cushion, with its bobbins filled with 
very fine threads that on autumn evenings- floated in the 
air, and which the people call filsdela Vierge. The lady, 
though of romantic bearing, was a practical manufac- 
turer. She sat down in silence, and with her nimble fin- 
gers taught the unhappy maiden how to make all sorts of 
patterns and complicated stitches. As daylight ap- 
proached, the maiden had learned her art, and the mys- 
terious visitor disappeared. The price of the lace soon 
made the poor girl rich. She married the man of her 
choice, and, surrounded by a large family, lived happy 
and rich, for she had kept the secret for herself. One 
evening when the little folks were playing around her 
knee by the fireside, and her husband sat fondly watching 
the happy group, the lady suddenly made her appearance 
among them. Her bearing was distant. She seemed 
stern and sad, and she addressed her protege in a trem- 
bling voice. 

" Here," she said, " you enjoy peace and abundance, 
while without are famine and trouble. I helped you; 
you have not helped your neighbors. The angels weep 
for you, and turn away their faces." 

So the next day the woman arose, and, going forth with 
the green cushion and its bobbins in her hands, went 
from cottage to cottage, offering to instruct all who would 
be taught in the art she had herself miraculously learned. 
So they soon became rich, and Belgium became famous 
for this manufacture. 

The latest bridal toilets are not trimmed as much as 
they have been. They are of velvet, heavily ribbed faille, 
ottoman, gros grain, satin and silk cachemire. The 
trains are added to the skirt, and of the same material as 
the waist. The front of the skirt affords variety in these 
costumes. If the goods are of soft texture, such as silk 
or cachemire, the skirt may be arranged in large plaits, 
with a ruching of silk, lace or tulle on the lower part. 
Some skirt fronts are of satin covered with plain tulle, 
either plaited or slightly gathered, and the trains and 
waists are of velours de Genes. .No trimming is required. 
Silk skirts have three tulle or lace scarfs taken across the 
front and under the train. These scarfs are fastened 
down on either side, a little toward the front, by tiny 
bunches of flowers. Some skirts are of plaited tulle, 
slightly draped on one side, under a bunch of flowers. A 
scarf of plain tulle is also fastened over the puff of the 
train. When lace is employed for bridal dresses, it serves 
as a skirt over a silk lining, or forms a draped scarf. 

A becoming coiffure for a bride is to have the hair 
combed up in the back of the neck, and taken in ringlets 
on the top of the head, like puffs. Among these are small 
bunches of orange blossoms, with one very large one in 
front. The hair is curled over the forehead, and combed 
back on the sides. The large tulle vail, taken over the 
head, is fastened in front by two pins with gold tops. 

Skirts worn by guests at weddings are usually short ; the 
long trains are only de rigueur for the bride's mother and 
for near relatives. Lace skirts are more seen than any 
other on these occasions. They are of cream, reddish or 
black lace, and worn with habit or redingote waists. 
The waists are of single-colored velvet or faille. Lace 
bonnets trimmed with flowers are worn with these cos- 
tumes. Some dressy toilets of embroidered silk have 
very short, tight-fitting jackets. Sometimes they have a 
single button to fasten them, and are cut up in the back. 
As this fashion shows a part of the waist, there are many 
v*ays of trimming the plastrons. They may be covered 
with full lace or silk, cither embroidered or worked with 
beads or gold. Very fine cream llama lace serves for 
plastrons, cuffs, or fronts of skirts for indoor wear, and, in 
different shades of brown, is the favored trimming for 
the rough woolen fabrics which are now adopted for trav- 
eling and walking purposes. 

Wilton carpets were made many years before Brus- 
sels. It is probable, however, that the Wilton of early 

times was somewhat different in its construction from that 
of the present. Henry Herbert, ninth Earl of Pembroke, 
introduced its manufacture in 174s, but the goods had 
been made some time prior in France. In 1755, English 
Axminsters were made; but it was not until 1749 that a 
loom was constructed which would produce a Brussels 
carpet. And just here is an intensely interesting anec- 
dote, which has been handed down from father to son as 
an inviolable truth : During 1730 and 1735, John Broom 
traveled through Tournay and Brussels, studying the 
stitch which was then known as Brussels stitch. In 
Brussels particularly, weavers were at that time making a 
carpet named after the town— the Brussels carpet. Broom 
studied with much earnestness the mystery of the manu- 
facture, and finally made the acquaintance in Tournay 
of a weaver understanding the secret. He and this 
weaver immediately repaired to England, and near Mt. 
Skipet, Kidderminster, they put up the first Brussels 
loom. They operated with absolute secrecy, but in time 
their modus operandi was exposed. Broom and his Bel- 
gian workman labored night and day, and it being known 
where their operations were conducted, some enterprising 
fellow climbed to the window, and night after night, 
from his perilous perch outside, he studied the operations 
of the mechanism within, until he was able to carry away 
in his mind a model of the Brussels loom. Then a 
second firm and several others came into the field, 
and in 1753 Kidderminster was doing considerable in 
the way of Brussels. To-day there is hardly anything 
else but Brussels made in Kidderminster, and, odd as it 
may seem, there is hardly a yard of original Kiddermin- 
ster carpet produced there. 

The dealers in stationery are constantly amusing their 
patrons, and catering to their caprices, by the introduction 
of new devices and styles of writing paper and envelopes. 
An innovation in papeterie has appeared in the form of 
envelopes with an imitation seal of wax to receive the im- 
pression of a signet ring, if the writer is the fortunate 
possessor of a signet ring. The extreme of eccentricity 
is adopted by persons with handsome residences, who 
have the photographs of them placed upon the paper, 
instead of the address. The shades of color are various. 
A delicate chocolate is quite fashionable, with the mono- 
gram at the left corner in brown and gold, the address 
being in the right corner in gold and brown, the envelope 
to match, and the monogram surmounting the address. 
Young ladies have various queer designs of monograms, 
and in some cases have their pet names printed rather 
prominently upon their paper. The name of the day, as 
formerly printed, has given way to the French words for 
the same, as Lundi for Monday, Mardi for Tuesday, etc. 
More latitude is allowed in note-paper than ordinary 
writing-paper. In this line the giit-edged and delicately 
colored note-cards are in request, secured in fancy envel- 
opes, and some show a preference for the paper which is 
already gummed, to be used as an envelope. Monograms 
are placed in a variety of positions. Upon the ordinary 
envelope it is placed at one side, or in the center of the 
flap. When the flap is square it is placed at the left side, 
and when it is sharply pointed and reaches the end of the 
envelope the design is placed on the extreme edge of the 
point. When sealing-wax is used to fasten a letter, plain 
envelopes are adopted, as any device upon the paper will 
detract from the beauty of the seal. 

Muslin curtains are now embroidered about three-quar- 
ters of a yard at the top, to turn over as a valance. The 
work is simply the easy outlines that come stamped on 
linen towels, done in blue or amber crewels, large-flowered 
patterns and sprays being favorites. quickly done. 
The plain part of the curtain is then trimmed with lace, 
and looped back with satin ribbons to match. 

For light window curtains, materials are now in use 
which give variety to the old and well-worn imitation 
laces, which have so long figured as the " proper thing." 
From simple cheese-cloth to Indian silks, one may go 
through a long list of materials more or less expensive, 
which may be used with good effect. Linen lawn and 
French organdie, with flower figures in delicate colors, 
are among the cheaper materials, and very effective. 
Turning to the more expensive materials, nothing is pret- 
tier than a monochrome India silk, which can bear an 
embroidered edge or silken fringe of the same color. 
White or cream-white Chinese crepe with figures is made 
in charmingly delicate designs. 

Darned work with silk or filoselle in Nagpore or Tus- 
sore silk is in greater favor than ever for cushions. The 
same kind of work with crewel on linen is suitable for 
counterpanes and bed-covers or summer curtains. 

Exquisite effects for those of a decorative turn of 
thought may be made by painting leaves and flowers on 
India silk of delicate shades, and surrounding the flat 
painted color with an outline double row of stitching of 
gold thread. Charming bed-covers are thus made. 

Holland shades that are worn out at the top can be 
made of use by cutting in halves and rehemming, then 
tacking upon the top of the frame. Shade the lower half 
of the window with a short curtain of muslin, puffed on a 
lace mosquito netting darned with crewels in outlines of 
large flowers, F - E. W. 





An altogether new and perhaps the most remarkable of 
the many institutions carried on by the ladies of our city 
is that of the San Francisco Girls' Union, situated in the 
airy, old-fashioned hou^e No. 728 Bush street, between 
Powell and Mason. It has been in process of organiza- 
tion for about three years, but not till August last did its 
founders find a habitation. Now, however, they have a 
home, and from that standpoint are studying out the an- 
swer to the grave problem of" How shall young girls earn 
honest bread? " 

The ladies engaged in this noble work, assisted by only 
a limited number of gentlemen, are as follows: President, 
Mrs. Frink; Vice Presidents, Mrs. Grace S. Bray and 
Mrs. Charles Blake ; Treasurer, William Bosworth ; Sec- 
retary, Mrs. R. S. Miller; Auditor, Mrs. H. P. Wakelee. 

Resident Director—Mrs. C. E. Kinney. 
Board of Directors — William Bosworth, Dr. L. A. Bal- 
lard. Mrs. Charles Eaton, Mrs. Charles Blake, Mrs. C. 
E. Kinney, Miss M. B. Cochrane, Mrs. W. T. Stringer, 
Mrs. H. P. Wakelee, Mrs. Grace Bray, Mrs. Shirpser. 

Advisory Board— Edear W. Steele, Dr. C. D. Barrows, 
L. B. Benchly. Dr. H. M. Fiske, Mrs. H. M. Fiske, 
Miss M. Very, Mrs. L. P. Drexler, Miss E. Domett, Mrs. 
John F. Merrill, Mrs. Clara Foltz, Mrs. I. S. Van Win- 
kle, Mrs. Doolittle, Mrs. E. W. Steele, Mrs. Charles Lux, 
Mrs. Sarah B. Cooper, Mrs. E. A. Whipple, Mrs. E. 
Beach, Mrs. C. F. Tracy, Mrs. John Barrows, Mrs. Sted- 
man, Mrs. R. B. Sanchez, Mrs. G. E. Fuller, Mrs. 
Woodman, Mrs. R. S. Miller, Mrs. Shaw, Mrs. Harring- 
ton, Mrs. S. P. Taylor, Mrs. Dewey, Mrs. Chatterton, 
Mrs. Babcock, Mrs. Kelsey. 

We have several asylums for orphans and abandoned 
children, for each of which the state pays a stated sum 
until they have reached the age of fourteen years. After 
that time they have no provision made for them, and are 
at the mercy of the world. Boys in one way and another 
find a niche to fill, but such girls as have not been adopted 
or found a home are indeed helpless. To supply this 
missing link in the care of friendless girls, to train them 
for places, to fit them for honest and accurate work, was 
the first purpose that brought the Union into existence. 
But like many another institution, its object has grown 
and increased until it is like the hen yearning over her 
many chickens — gathering girls of all ages, from home and 
abroad, under its sheltering wings, and fitting them for 

The art of home making is to be taught in its smallest 
detail, in order that she who studies it may successfully 
undertake the care of the homes of others, and after- 
wards that of her own. The dress-maker, the designer, 
the telegrapher, the kindergartener, are all to be trained 
in their special lines. 

Several years ago, in a little screed upon woman's 
rights, I prophesied that the "Coming Arcadia " would 
be upon us, not when women succeeded in voting with 
the men, but when women held out the hand of help- 
fulness to women, and taught them to do their work 
thoroughly and scientifically; then we should have, in- 
stead of the higher education, the chemistry of cooking, 
the geometry of dress-making, and colleges for the train- 
ing of mothers. It is quite a surprise to see that this 
question is taken up so early in our history. I had not 
expected it for twenty years to come. But here in our 
midst is a thoroughly American institution starting upon 
its way, looking these questions bravely in the face, and 
endeavoring to find answers for them, realizing the need 
for thoroughness in the citidel of home itself. 

The support of the Union is divided into two classes, 
the sustaining members and the beneficiaries, each one 
paying the nominal sum of one dollar per year. This 
entitles members of both classes to all the priveleges of 
the society, the first obtaining skilled service by its aid, 
the second securing the benefit of its many training 
classes and opportunities of assistance. One of the 
prominent objects of the society is to bring these two 
classes together in a mutual helpfulness — the employer 
and the employe — that it may, in a degree, do away with 
the awful stigma in our fair land, that an honest girl can- 
not find work to do. The plea that " She is a woman ! " 
is no longer received as sufficient reason for giving un- 
skilled labor a position it cannot fill. She must serve 
her apprenticeship if she hopes to compete in the struggle 
for bread. This recognition of the demand of the day, 
makes this Union an advanced institution to be placed 
alongside the mutual insurance societies and the loan 

The chief American characteristic underlying the prin- 
ciples of the Union is that all assistance given, all bene- 
fits conferred upon a penniless, incompetent girl, are to 
be considered as a debt of honor, to be paid with a 
very small sum, in .her own time, at her own convenience. 
If this is not agreed to, the applicant is not received. 
The lady directors do not wish to touch the class which 
is willing to take charity or receive alms; they will deal 
only with those who wish to maintain their own self- 

Though in a [figurative sense the society may be said 

only to have reached the stage in its existence where it is 
out of swaddling clothes, yet much has been accom- 
plished, and many improvements and additions are pro- 
jected for its future, which will make the Union a god- 
send indeed. 

Already the calls for help in the domestic department 
outnumber the supply fourfold. A home has been sup- 
plied for seventy-two girls for brief periods, at a price of 
fifteen cents a meal, and rooms at from one to two dollars 
a week. Situations or needed work have been supplied for 
over forty of them, and fifty-one places secured for out- 
side beneficiaries. 

The chief obstacle in the way of success is the very 
incompetency and lack of training in women which has 
forced the necessity of training classes upon the lady 
directors of the institution. Every effort is now being put 
forth to perfect plans for the r establishment of these grand 
aids to self-helpfulness. Dressmaking and plain sewing 
have already been introduced, with excellent results. 
Those who wish to work in retirement place a number 
upon their special garments, so that ladies who are pleased 
with them may order duplicates from the same hand. 
This also places a premium upon skilled work, the finer 
workwomen receiving the greater number of orders. 
This department may be aided materially by ladies who, 
desiring garments for themselves and children, will take 
the trouble to send their work in this direction, thereby 
patronizing their-own sisterhood rather then the denizens 
of Chinatown, who furnish most of the cheap sewing sold 
in our ready-made clothing stores. 

It is no small problem which these lady directors of 
the Girls' Union are trying to solve, and they need the 
assistance of many to make it successful. In reading the 
lists of the boards of lady managers of the many societies 
and institutions in our city, we find the same names 
appearing in a number of them — names of sympathetic 
ladies who have become interested in different forms of 
charitable work. And yet there are many ladies of wealth 
and intelligence in San Francisco whose names do not 
appear in connection with any of these works of helpful- 
ness. Perhaps the idea of assisting has not occurred to 
them. If so, here is an opportunity to aid one of the 
noblest and best; one of the kind that " shuts the stable 
door before the horse is stolen " ; one that " helps those 
who help themselves." There are many ways of assisting 
in this good work. There are the indirect methods which 
are sometimes more powerful than the direct. One is the 
making known the purposes of the society in each one's 
small circle, thus extending its field of usefulness; another 
is in becoming a member at a dollar a year, and lending 
moral support as well as personal influence; still another 
is in attending the little entertainments gotten up from 
time to time and announced through the papers, in order 
to reach the public ; and, last but not least, is the con- 
tributing by ladies of talent of their services in furnishing 
a thoughtful and entertaining programme. One of these 
last included a bright and sparkling address upon " Law- 
yers," by Mrs. Clara Foltz, one of the members of the 
association, and one of its most earnest supporters. The 
lady in question is very desirous of having an additional 
training class added to the rest, to teach mothers how to 
care for their children. When that comes about, we 
shall be well on the road to our coming Arcadia, indeed. 

Mrs. Kinney, the Resident Director, is a graduate of 
Oberlin — a lady with a refined and kindly face. Meeting 
with a great bereavement in the loss of a beloved son, she 
found no relief in anything but active work; and so, 
leaving a beautiful home in a choice spot in the Sierras, 
she devotes her time to this difficult work, spending but a 
few weeks in the summer at her country place. It is 
through her untiring efforts, in connection with the 
other ladies of the board, that the Union has made 
such rapid progress, and in her position as mother, ad- 
viser and counselor, she brings comfort to many a help- 
less girl who comes to her as a last recourse. 

Mrs. Kinney has large ideas for the future of the 
Union. Even now she sees the way to make it an inter- 
state work, having in prospect a network of auxiliaries 
throughout the principal towns, all in communication 
and mutually interested. Already Petaluma has be- 
come an assistant, forming a Union Aid in connection 
with the San Francisco Union, and Santa Rosa and 
Saint Helena give promise of following suit. By means 
of these many links in the great chain, it can accomplish 
a vast work for woman on this coast, enabling a skilful 
workwoman, or one who knows her profession well, to go 
from place to place with her credentials, and win 
honest bread wherever she goes. 

The girls reached by the Union are all of the better 
class, the self-helpful, the intelligent and refined. By 
being taught useful occupations and professions best 
suited to each individual, and then provided with em- 
ployment, many are saved from the wolves of the world 
lying in wait for them. Of course, to those who make a 
study of human nature, it is well known that provision 
must be made for an occasional ingrate, who will abuse 
the privileges open to her ; still the atmosphere of such 
an institution cannot fail to awaken gratitude in the 
majority of hearts that come within its influence. 

Making this a retreat for homeless girls is a wise move. 
Many are the terrible tales told of girls — young women, 
refined and attractive, whose first misstep upon coming 
to the city to find employment, was in the choice of 

lodging. Those with greater caution have sought a first- 
class hotel, preferring to be extravagant rather than run 
the risk ot finding themselves in a doubtful place. When 
the Union shall become well enough known, these dif- 
ficulties will be smoothed away, and young ladies may 
venture to come to the city panoplied with credentials, 
and armed with an address of safety, where a motherly 
welcome shall await them. 

Ella Sterling Cummins. 


From an article by Bev. T. T. Munger, on " Immor- 
tality and Modern Thought," in 77ie Century for May, we 
quote as follows: "When chemistry put the key of the 
physical universe into the hand of science, it was well 
enough to give up a century to the dazzling picture it re- 
vealed. A century of concentrated and universal gaze at 
the world out of whose dust we are made, and whose 
forces play in the throbs of our hearts, is not too much ; 
but after having sat so long before the brilliant play of 
elemental flames, and seen ourselves reduced to simple 
gas and force under laws for whose strength adamant is 
no measure, we have become a little restive and take up 
again the old questions. Science has not explained us to 
ourselves, nor compassed us in its retort, nor measured 
us in its law of continuity. You have shown me of what 
I am made, how put together, and linked my action to 
the invariable energy of the universe ; now tell me what I 
am ; explain to me consciousness, will, thought, desire, 
love, veneration. I confess myself to be all you say, but 
I know myself to be more ; tell me what that more is. 
Science, in its early and wisely narrow sense, could not 
respond to these demands ; but it has enlarged its voca- 
tion under two impulses. It has pushed its researches 
until it has reached verges beyond which it cannot go, 
yet sees forces and phenomena that it cannot explain nor 
even speak of without using the nomenclature of meta- 
physics. In a recent able work of science the word 
' spirit ' is adopted into the scientific vocabulary. Again, 
physical science has yielded to the necessity of allying 
itself with other sciences — finding itself on their boarders. 
Chemistry led up to biology, and this in return to psy- 
chology, and soon to sociology and history and religion, 
and even to metaphysics, whose tools it had used with some 
disdain of their source. In short, it is found that there is 
no such thing as specific science, but that all sciences are 
parts of one universal science. The broad studies of 
Darwin and Herbert Spencer have done much toward 
establishing this conviction, which has brought about 
what may be called a comity of the sciences, or an era of 
good feeling. The chemist sits down by the metaphysi- 
cian and says, Tell me what you know about conscious- 
ness; and the theologian listens eagerly to the story of 
evolution. Unless we greatly misread the temper of 
recent science, it is ready to pass over certain phenomena 
it has discovered and questions it has raised, to theology. 
And with more confidence we may assert that theology is 
parting with the-conceit it had assumed as ' queen of the 
sciences,' and, clothing itself with its proper humility, is 
ready to accept a report from any who can aid in its 
exalted studies. 

" This comity between the sciences, or rather necessary 
correlation, not only leads to good feeling and mutual re- 
spect, but insures a recognition of each other's conclu- 
sions. Whatever is true in one must be true in all. 
Whatever is necessary to the perfection of one cannot be 
ruled out of another. That which is true in man's spiritual 
life must be true in his social life; and whatever is true in 
social life must not contradict anything in his physical 
life. We might reverse this, and say that no true pnysiolo- 
gist will define the physical man so as to exclude the so- 
cial man; nor will he so define the social and political 
man as to shut out the spiritual man ; nor will he so define 
the common humanity as to exclude personality. He 
will leave a margin for other sciences whose claims are as 
valid as those of his own. If, for example, immortality 
is a necessary coordinate of man's moral nature— an evi- 
dent part of its content— the chemist and physiologist 
will not set it aside because they find no report of it in 
their fields. If it is a part of spiritual and moral science, 
it cannot be rejected because it is not found in physical 
science. So much, at least, has been gained by the new 
comity in the sciences— that opinions are respected, and 
questions that belong to other departments are relegated 
I to them in a scientific spirit." 


"Yes," I answered you last night; 

" No," this morning, sir, I say. 
Colors seen by candlelight 

Will not look the same by day. 

When the viols played their best — 

Lamps above ana laughs below — 
" Love me " sounded like a jest. 

Fit for " yes " or fit for " no." 

Call me false or call me tree; 

Vow, whatever light may shine, 
No man on your face shall see 

Any grief for change on mine. 

Yet the sin is on us both; 

Time to dance is not to woo; 
Wooing light makes fickle troth; 

Scorn of me recoils on you. 

Learn to win a lady's faith 

Nobly, as the thing is high; 
Bravely, as for life and death — 

With a loyal gravity. 

I^ad her from the festive boards, 

Point her to the starry skies, 
Guard her by your truthful words, 

Pure from courtship's flatteries. 

By your truth she shall be true- 
Ever true, as wives of yore; 

And her " yes," once said to you, 
Shall be " yes " forever more. 

Elizabeth Barrett Browning. 




" Do you know," remarked a gentleman to the Ram- 
bler, a few days since, "that 'this glorious climate of 
California' is bound to develop great and original 
schools of art and literature, just as surely as did that of 
Greece and Italy?" Being from the East and not to the 
manner born, he was pardoned the use of the stereotyped 
phrase; and the Rambler, who, although himself a com- 
parative stranger, is proud to regard himself as an 
adopted son of the great Golden State, answered with 
becoming modesty, in a slightly deprecating tone : 

" You surely cannot see anything very hopeful in the 
present artistic condition of our community. Our artists, 
the best of them, complain that they are unable to make 
their profession even ordinarily remunerative; and the 
few vigorous writers who have been claimed as Californi- 
ans, have found themselves without honor in their own 
country, and have been forced to seek other fields in 
order to find that appreciation which is necessary to 
nourish and sustain their genius. Our present literature 
is singularly provincial in its character. Our writers are 
for the most part lacking in broadness and thoroughness, 
and are therefore unable to produce anything which can 
be of widespread and permanent interest. They are only 
too apt 

To take the rustic cackle of their burg 

For that loud wave that echoes round the world. 

What writers has California produced who have won 
any extended notice, if we except Bret Harte, Joaquin 
Miller, and Henry George, all of whom were forced to 
go abroad to obtain the reward of their labors?" 

" There is not so much force in all this as you appear 
to think," was the answer. " This provincialism of which 
you speak is to me more a hopeful than a discouraging 
sign. All distinctive national development in literature 
or art might be called provincial, if we consider that it 
took its leading characteristic from the traits of the peo- 
ple who fostered it, and the tendencies of the age in 
which it flourished. Greek art was provincial ; so was 
Italian ; so was Teutonic. A great genius is able to make 
his work of general interest because he has studied so 
thoroughly the life which is round about him. Shake- 
speare, of whom it has been said that he was not of an age, 
but for all time, did not hesitate to make his characters, 
whether Greeks, Italians, or Danes, conform to the 
manners and customs of the England of his day. Yet I 
have never heard of any one quarreling with him for 
making the ancient Romans wear shoes, or for giving his 
pictures of the groves of Athens the local color of his own 
loved land. Even Milton himself, for his time a most 
thorough classical scholar, could not forbear mingling 
distinctively English characteristics with Greek mythol- 
ogy in his Mask of Comus. The fact that California 
writers aim generally at using the material near at hand, 
and are endeavoring to seize on the peculiar phases of 
life which is and has been developed here, encourages at 
least a hope that they will be able finally to produce 
works which will be really great because not molded in 
any familiar form. It would be better, perhaps, for your 
artists if they would follow more generally the example 
of your writers and give their work this local color, which 
would make it distinctive and characteristic. 

" There is no need of your painters turning the pages 
of Scott or Tennyson to find subjects for ideal pictures. 
Let them paint Kentuck drawn from the turbulent flood, 
with the Luck of Roaring Camp clasped in his arms; 
Jack Oakhurst lying dead in the snow, with his quaint 
epitaph carved on the redwood trunk above him ; or, if 
they want more weird and imaginative scenes, let them 
delineate the Pilgrims of the Plains, when 

They saw the silences 

Go by and beckon ; saw their forms, 

Their very beards, sometimes in storms, 

or the ship of the desert, where 

Doubloons lie sown in sand 

In you far desert dead and brown, 

Beyond where wave- washed shores look down 

As thick as stars set overhead. 

" Don't you think wealthy Californians would soon learn 
to patronize a home art which would be of local interest, 
instead of, even when most excellent, only the reproduc- 
tion of types which have been many times used by other 
men in various times and places? It is true that Califor- 
nia lacks the culture of the East, but that will come with 
time. Is it nothing that she developed the genius of Bret 
Harte, one of the truest artists, both in prose and verse, of 
the present generation? and that she inspired Miller, who 
will be recognized by future generations as, in spite of 
his many faults, the most original imaginative poet of his 
time? Critics in this country have sneered at Miller 
for his roughness of diction, the tediousness of his narra- 
tives, and his imitation of the forced and turgid sentiment 
of Byron. Yet the English were undoubtedly right in 
pronouncing him the first distinctively American poet. 
His affectations were indeed Byronic, but his genius was 
his own. Originality in poetry does not consist, as Miller 
and Walt Whitman seem to have imagined, in the use 
of uncouth expressions and a disregard of the laws of 
poetic construction. The canons of art are eternal ; and 
the poet is no more justified in disdaining the use of 
musical words and rhythms than the artist in making his 
picture faulty in drawing and perspective. Miller will, 

however, be remembered because he has pictured, as no 
other man has, the purely imaginative side of western 
life ; the beauty and enchantment of its verdant plains, 
the majesty of its mountain 

Teaks that flash like silver tents, 
the rush of its foaming rivers, and the glory of its 
smiling sea. Is it not probable that hereafter another 
poet may arise, who, with a finer taste and a higher cul- 
ture, may be similarly inspired by such scenes, and will 
find in them themes for songs which will be at once ex- 
quisit in form and sublime in conception. The culture, 
too, must be original and not imitative. It should be 
possible for a painter to strive to master the rich coloring 
and rare technical finish of Italian art, without his being 
compelled to paint madonnas or saints all his days; so a 
poet should be able to give to his verse something of the 
melody and delicate fancy of Shelley and Tennyson, 
without copying their peculiarities of expression or bor- 
rowing their imagery. This brings me back to the point 
where I started, which is that the physical character of 
California alone insures its eventually becoming the art 
center of the United States, perhaps of the world. As 
the years go on, and this already great metropolis of 
the Pacific coast steadily increases in wealth and im- 
portance, the artistic achievements of its people will 
keep pace with their advancement in other directions. 
Schools of art will be established, and munificently en- 
dowed by wealthy patrons. Prizes will be offered to 
encourage rising genius to its highest efforts. Refined 
people will wield the controling influence in your social 
life, and the snobbery and vulgarity now so apparent in 
what you call your highest circles, will gradually disap- 
pear. Culture will than be fashionable here, as it is now 
in Boston. Your moneyed men will vie with each other 
in encouraging the growth of literature and the fine arts. 
Then genius born under California's smiling skies will no 
longer have to seek away from home for i f s highest ap- 
preciation. Then will the painter transfer to his canvas 
transcripts of your sublime scenery, which is without 
equal for grandeur on the earth. Then will the poet 
wander through your flower-braided valleys, among your 
towering mountains, or by your shimmering sea, singing 
immortal songs which will be the delight of unborn 

" Your delightful climate, free alike from the rigors of 
northern winters and the enervating heat of tropical lands, 
cannot fail to influence beneficially artistic temperaments, 
always sensitive to the effect of their surroundings. Even 
now the outlook is far from discouraging. You have sev- 
eral artists who have deservedly won at least national 
fame. Of your poets I have already spoken ; and is it not 
something to say for the literary taste of your people that 
San Francisco supports four or five journals and maga- 
zines which aim to encourage the higher grade of litera- 
ture? while Cincinnati has not a single such, and Chicago 
only one." 

The Rambler could not bring himself to interrupt this 
eloquent prophecy of the future artistic greatness of the 
Golden State, and could only express the hope that the 
enthusiastic stranger's prognostications might prove cor- 
rect, and California eventually become the Italy of Amer- 
ica, in art and literature as well as in climate. 

It is rather a strange thing, in thinking of Westminster 
Abbey as the great mausoleum of England's famous men, 
to reflect that so many of hef greatest sons have missed 
finding resting places within its reverend walls. We find 
there neither the tomb of her greatest poet, Shakespeare, 
her greatest soldier, Wellington, nor her greatest naval com- 
mander, Nelson. Byron, the master poet of our fathers' 
day, has no place there ; neither have Carlyle and George 
Eliot, the two great prophetic voices of our late literature. 
The why and wherefore of this will doubtless be a puz- 
zling question to the minds of savants of some future age, 
who will invent many strange theories to account for the 
fact that while the names of so many men whose achieve- 
ments will have been buried in oblivion should be found 
there, those of some imperishibly associated with what is 
greatest in her history should be missing. 

And, by the way, what will these future archaeologists 
think of us? Will they be able to find that we in this 
age accomplished anything beyond banding the conti- 
nent with streaks of rust? and they will perhaps 
laugh at the trouble we went to, in order to obtain 
a mode of locomotion which may seem to them ridicu- 
lously clumsy, as they sail in airy argosies through 
the central blue. How little of our art or our literature, 
perhaps even of our science, will seem to them worth 
preserving. Let us imagine that in some convulsion of 
nature a great volcano should break out suddenly on one 
of our sand hills, and bury San Francisco, like Pompeii, 
under a shower of burning ashes, only to be exhumed in 
say two thousand years. What would be found to interest 
the curious stranger who would walk through the ruined 
city? The palaces of Nob Hill would lie in blackened 
heaps, and most of our business houses would likewise 
be crumbling, shapeless masses. The Mint would, of 
course, remain, though the government would doubt- 
less have succeeded in recovering its treasures, and its 
vaults would be empty. People of that day would view 
our cable-roads and electric wires and instruments with 
some admiration for their ingeniousness; but what would 

they find of value in the way of art and architecture : 
Fancy a learned man examining the Cogswell statue or the 
Lotta fountain, and making strange conjectures as to 
the degree of barbarism of a people who would set up 
such specimens of art in their public places. Then, too, 
what would they say of the Palace Hotel as an example 
of our architecture? Let us hope that our city may be 
rebuilt before such a catastrophy may overtake her. 

' J. D. S. 


Emerson recommends, as a new subject for conver- 
sation, the book which everybody was reading a year 
ago— it will be found ]>erfectly forgotten and unknown by 
the present company. The popular author of the last 
generation is in the condition of last year's novel — it will 
be a wonder if more than one person in a hundred re- 
members him at all. " Willis — Willis? was he a 
musician or a member of Congress?" Yet, 50 years 
since, and from that to 35 years ago, no poet or prose 
writer in America was more famous, and very few had a 
more hopeful reputation abroad. Emerson's Nature, 
published in 1836, found but a few hundred readers, yet 
Nat. Willis's Pencilings by the May, first published a 
few months sooner, was read with delight or indignation 
by thousands in America and England, and reached 
seven editions in that country before Willis finally gave 
way to oblivion. His poems had begun to appear ten 
years earlier— in 1826-7— and had been almost as popular, 
so that when he published Melanie and Oilier Poems in 
England in 1835, he was hailed even there as a true 
poet, while nobody, as yet, look any account of Emerson, 
Tennyson, Browing or Longfellow. Yet Willis's fame as 
a poet now rests chiefly on two or three poems which 
Emerson has set up in Parnassus for the immortality they 

These and many other reflections concerning Willis, the 
Forgotten, have been suggested by the pleasant biography 
of him in the series of American Men of Letters, bv Pro- 
fessor Beers, of New Haven. Like most of these volumes, 
it runs beyond the 300 pages duly allotted to each author, 
and there is this excuse in Willis's case, that space is 
needed to restore him to something like reality among 
men of the present age. Yet he was younger than Emer- 
son by three years, two years younger than Hawthorne, 
and only a year older than Longfellow— all of whom 
have so long outstripped him in the race for fame. Like 
Longfellow, he was born in Maine, but his ancestors 
were Boston printers or mechanics of other trades, and 
he was as much a production of Boston as of any other 
place in the world, thought he wholly lacked the Boston 
seriousness. His mother, Hannah Parker, must have 
been of the same sturdy English stock that produced 
Theodore Parker, yet Willis is said to have derived from 
that side the light gayety which so much resembled the 
French character, and which first gave him a standing in 
literature. It was the secret of his precocious talent, of 
his amiable nature, and, aias ! of his early oblivion. 
With a little more genius he might have contrived, like 
La Fontaine, to delight the world ; with a little more 
seriousness he might have rivaled Bernardin Saint-Pierre; 
but as it is he must sleep the sleep of forgetfuTness, ex- 
cept as his happy phrases sometimes flash like summer 
lightning across the somber horizon of American litera- 
ture. He was born in 1806; he died in 1867, and the 
years between were filled up with a constant activity, 
both of heart and head, for which it is a pity there should 
now be so little to show. 

Notwithstanding the censure they brought upon him 
for certain indiscretions, Willis best deserves to be re- 
membered (two or three poems excepted) for his Pen- 
cilings by the Way, which still preserve for us a livelier 
picture of the England of dandies and dandy literature 
than any of the numerous diaries that have since been 
published. Willis reached England in June, 1834, and 
remained there nearly two years, or until he sailed for 
America with his English bride, in May, 1836; and he 
saw what he wished to see under the greatest advantaces. 
He wrote to his sister Julia soon after his landing at Do- 
ver, with some vanity, but also with much truth : "All 
the best society of London exclusives is now open to me! 
a sometime apprentice at setting type — nut without a sou 
in the world beyond what my pen brings me, and with 
not only no influence from friends at home, but with a 
world of envy and slander at my back. Thank Heaven, 
there is not a countryman of mine, except Washington 
Irving, who has the standing in England which I have 
got in three days only." Nor did he, on the whole, abuse 
this good fortune, or fail to see and note what England 
had for his eyes. 

Willis's biographer has done his part well, and has given 
his graceful hero a sort of life again, "revisiting these 
glimpses of the moon," and bringing his own moonlight 
with him. We think better of Willis after reading the 
book, and heave a melancholy sigh that so much that is 
charming should have been so evanescent in our litera- 
ture. But Willis, like Dives, had his good things in this 
life, and that carping Scotch Lazarus, Carlyle — whom he 
scarcely noticed or hoard of while he was dining with 
Count D'Orsay and Disraeli and listening to Bulwer — 
with his ucly face and red whiskers, has been received 
into the very bosom of that Abraham who presides over 
literary immortality, while Willis lies below, forgotten. — 
Springfield Republican . 

Miss Mary Anderson's farewell speech to her audience, 
after the close of her London season, brought tears to 
many eyes, it was so simple, natural, and full of feeling. 
Its last words were: "Please don't quite forget me; I 
can never forget you or your kindness. I hope I am not 
saying good-bye forever, for I want to come back. Dare 
I hope you will be a little glad to see me? I know that 
I shall be very glad to see you. Until I do so, good-bye, 
and thank you again and again," 




At 420 Kearny street, by 
Wm. P. Harrison. 

Subscription : $4 a year, postage paid : single copies Ten Cents. 
Newsdealers supplied by the San Francisco News Company, 210 Post St. 




• It is the universal opinion of conservative people in 
this community that the policy pursued by the Water and 
Gas Companies, of standing always upon the defensive in 
their dealings with the city and its citizens, steadfastly 
refusing to make concessions except "at the point of the 
bayonet," and never in a single instance volunteering a 
reduction in their rates, is the sole cause of the unfriendly 
public opinion which reigns against them. The officers 
and managers of these corporations have had it in their 
power to make the entire community their friends by 
assuming an open, frank, conciliatory and friendly atti- 
tude toward their customers, instead of dealing with 
them at arm's-leneth, and seemingly trying to get out 
of them all they will stand. It is a mistake to suppose 
that the people of this city are so totally depraved 
that they grumble and complain at these corporations 
without any provocation whatever. The true cause 
of the strained and unfriendly relations between the 
Water and Gas Companies and the people of this city lies 
in the greedy and distrustful policy of the companies in 
never conceding anything that they are not forced to con- 
cede, never making a voluntary reduction of charges, 
and never taking the public into their confidence. 

The Water and Gas Companies have two most false, 
unsound, and vicious business maxims upon which they 
act in all their dealings with the city and its citizens, 
(1) that "the people will grumble anyhow, whatever you 
do for them," and (2) that " if a reduction is made it can 
never be taken back." But these are not the maxims of 
far-seeing, successful business men who deal with large 
masses of people. Capitalists who invest their money in 
massive enterprises for supplying populous communities 
with a common and necessary article, involving large out- 
lays of capital in the construction of works, and which, 
by reason of their very immensity, are in their nature 
monopolies, are subject to two distinct obligations to the 
community—/?™/, that they will charge a low rate of inter- 
est on their investments, because capital invested in large 
blocks, and in permanent improvements guaranteeing a 
steady and regular income, always rules at a low rate of 
interest ; and second, that they shall deal with the commu- 
nity with peculiar frankness and fairness, taking the com- 
munity into their confidence in order that it may know 
that their charges are reasonable. Both of these obliga- 
tions have been violated by the capitalists who founded 
the Water and Gas Companies of San Francisco. 

The founders of these companies, acting upon the as- 
sumption that they were engaged in competitive enter- 
prises, and, being the first in the field, were entitled to 
charge and receive all the community would stand, and 
resenting anything in the way of interference on the 
part of the public in what they styled their private busi- 
ness, went on for years charging the highest rates they 
could get, and making magnificent dividends for them- 
selves and their stockholders. But these large dividends 
excited the cupidity of other capitalists. Rival water and 
gas companies were started, from time to time, which the 
old companies felt themselves compelled either to freeze 
out or " absorb," in order to prevent competition. They 
usually absorbed them; that is, they consolidated with 
them, by increasing their capital stock to an amount 
equal to the price at which they purchased the rival works. 
Each one of these absorptions rendered necessary the en- 
largement or watering of the stock, and prevented the 
natural decrease in rates that should have followed the 
growth of the community and the increased consumption. 
The result has been that these blackmail schemes to 
which the Water and Gas Companies have been subjected 
have increased the cost of their respective works to 
amounts beyond all reasonable limits, and beyond all 
comparison to their actual value, and rates have had to 
be charged, collected, and maintained against the con- 
sumers sufficient to pay dividends upon the capital stock 
representing these unnecessary blackmail purchases. Is 
it any wonder that the people complain and rebel against 
being made the victims of all these unjust combinations? 

On the other hand, it would not be just to the officers 

and managers of the Water and Gas Companies to ignore 
the difficulties under which they labor. They represent 
the interests of all the stockholders, many of whom are 
modern and recent purchasers at high prices. The offi- 
cers are therefore harassed and hampered in their deal- 
ings with the public by their duties to the stockholders. 
The vast disproportion between the capital stock (repre- 
senting, as we have seen, a lot of unnecessary purchases 
of rival interests) and the actual value of their works, con- 
stitutes to-day, and always has constituted, the bone of 
contention between these companies and the public. 
The companies stand before the community in the atti- 
tude of saying, " We were forced to buy up a lot of rival 
schemes that had been started from time to time against us. 
The property acquired by us through these purchases is, 
much of it, useless and unnecessary, and we should never 
have purchased it except for the purpose of suppressing 
dangerous rivals and preventing competition; but now 
that we have purchased it, and it has increased our capi- 
tal stock by several millions of dollars, we demand that 
the public shall pay us such rates as shall enable us to 
declare dividends uj>on it." The public naturally and 
indignantly objects. The fault of these companies lies 
in the fact that they persist in maintaining this unjust 
claim in the face and eyes of the settled and stubborn 
opposition of the public. 

Serious fault has just been found with Mr. Howard, of 
the Spring Valley Water Company, for the unyielding 
persistence with which he urges a continuation of the 
old rates, and the seeming impatience with which he lis- 
tens to any proposition looking to a reduction. Repre- 
senting, as Mr. Howard does, a large number of modern 
stockholders who paid large prices for their stock, we may 
excuse him for strenuously opposing any reduction that 
would cause a marked and sudden decline in the value of 
the stock, and bring ruin upon the stockholders; but the 
public cannot excuse him for refusing to look facts 
squarely in the face, and continuing to advance unjust 
claims to maintain existing rates year after year, instead 
of instituting an enlightened policy of voluntarily making 
gradual reductions. 

It is a fact well known in business circles that there is 
a very respectable number of stockholders in both the 
Water and Gas Companies, who are outspoken in their 
opposition to the policy pursued by Mr. Howard, of 
the Water Company, and the Donahue interest in the 
Gas Company, of never yielding anything except under 
compulsion. The late John Dean, of the firm of 
Murphy, Grant & Co., who was admittedly one of the 
most upright, conscientious and successful business men 
we have ever had among us, speaking of this subject, 
said to the writer of this editorial, in his earnest, candid 
way, " It is a pity that the Water and Gas Companies so 
stubbornly and persistently maintain the old, wornout 
policy of never yielding anything except when they are 
compelled to." This from a man of such singularly 
just and honest convictions, struck the writer, at the time, 
as a terse statement of the whole question. The stock- 
holders of the Gas Company rebelled against the Dona- 
hue management a year or so ago, but owing to the lack 
of tact and skill in his successor, we understand that 
there was a compromise affected at the last election, 
whereby Mr. Crockett, who is understood to be a 
Donahue man with anti-Donahue principles, was 
elected President, and now, with Wm. G. Barrett, the 
popular Secretary of that company, manages the affairs of 
the corporation. Mr. Howard, the President of the 
Water Company, with Mr. Newlands, the attorney, is 
supposed to represent the policy of Mr. Sharon, the 
principal owner of the stock of the corporation. Both 
are exceedingly able men, but they by no means appre- 
ciate the immense value to their company of the policy 
of frankness and fairness in their dealings with the 

We understand that Mr. J. G. Eastland, the President 
and founder of the Oakland Gas Works (formerly Secre- 
tary of the San Francisco Gas Company), and Mr. Chabot, 
of the Oakland Water Company, have pursued the policy 
of anticipating public clamor by gradually yet regularly 
reducing their rates from year to year, voluntarily and 
without compulsion ; the result of which has been that 
the most friendly and cordial relations exist between the 
municipality and the corporations controlled by the gen- 
tlemen named. 

The San Francisc an makes no war on capital ; it is the 
friend of legitimate wealth. It wants the Water and Gas 
Companies, as long as these institutions are the subject of 
private ownership, to enjoy ample and regular dividends; 
it is sorry for the modern stockholders who bought in- 
flated stock at high prices ; it is willing to let them down 
gradually and easily, so that the decline in their stock 

shall be as near as possible imperceptible; but it contends 
that there ought to be and must be large reductions from 
the rates at present charged. 

The millions of dollars invested in the Spring Valley 
Water Works constitute a lasting and permanent invest- 
ment to the stockholders, from which a never-failing in- 
come is sure to flow. This large investment, by all the 
rules of business, should bring a steady but low rate of 
interest. It is only small and transient investments, 
attended by manifold risks, that demand high returns. 
Taking into consideration the comparative risks between 
the two investments, the Gas Company should be entitled 
to the higher rate of interest. It is by no means certain 
that the millions invested in gas works may not be ren- 
dered valueless by some improved method of lighting our 
houses and streets; electricity has within the past few 
years made serious inroads on gas. But water is a com- 
modity that we may reasonably calculate will remain a 
necessity to the end of time. 


All that makes up healthy, happy human life, socially 
and individually, exists to-day in greater abundance than 
ever before in the history of civilization. 

Not alone in this hemisphere, but all over Christendom, 
and even Pagandom, the earth has yielded harvests be- 
yond all possible demands for consumption. In a similar 
degree the products of the loom, furnace, factory, and 
workshop, are to be found in excessive sujierabundance 
over their uses, while the means of communication and 
exchange of skill and thought among and between the 
world's inhabitants are multiplied to an extent that would 
have seemed fabulous to have anticipated. And domi- 
nating all this result of nature's bounty and man's indus- 
try sits capital, enthroned in its banking citadels, exhibit- 
ing " a potentiality of wealth beyond the dreams of 

This is the actual status of our present environment, in 
a business and financial sense. There is immense capital 
massed in indolent inaction, there is all the material of 
life, and we limit ourselves here to consideration of the 
lower nature—" What to eat, drink, and wherewith to be 
clothed " — in such liberal excess that even the destruction 
of war is regarded approvingly as an agent of relief. Face 
to face with this plethora of plenty there is a great mass 
of clamorous humanity pressing for employment as a 
means of mere subsistence, and, looming in the back- 
ground, squalor and hunger darkening into disease and 

This may seem overdrawn, but that current history of 
the world, the daily papers, confirms it. If the colorsare 
somewhat too dark for our immediate surroundings, 
more populous cities and communities deepen the tint. 
The facts are before us in their naked horror : masses of 
mankind are everywhere in pinching want, while the very 
few possess in "wasteful and ridiculous excess." We 
cannot disguise from ourselves the present fearful in- 
equality of possession among men of all that makes life 
worth living. It has become the feature of republican- 
ism as much as of monarchy or imperialism, but with this 
significant distinction— that the power to enforce a remedy 
is with the citizens of the republic. The power to vote is 
the power to tax, and that is the power to govern or 
misgovern. Shall we face this potentially destructive 
power, or make it conservative by investing it with 
property or easier means of acquisition? A modern 
writer has well said, " A penniless omnipotence is an in- 
supportable presence." 


On another page will be found an interesting chapter 
of the history of Dr. Hardy's Foundling and Lying-in 
Hospital, from which it will be seen how "the man 
with the comical cap " froze out the benevolent ladies 
who were building up a noble charity, wormed himself 
into the sole possession and management of the fund they 
had acquired, and amalgamated two institutions that 
were intended to be kept separate, into one. Evidences 
are constantly accumulating of the cold duplicity and 
heartless selfishness of the pharisaical old man. A lead- 
ing physician of this city tells us how the lying-in 
branch of the institution is used by Dr. Hardy as a 
means of extorting the most outrageous and uncon- 
scionable sums from the unfortunate women who flee to 
his hospital for shelter. In the first place, he charges 
them $40 a month for their board and lodging, and, 
in addition to this, $50 as an accouchment fee. These 
sums he requires to be paid in advance. Thejcharge 



for board is thus not only fixed at the highest price, 
but the Doctor's fee is double what is charged by 
respectable physicians of the city. Our informant states 
that he went to Dr. Hardy several times and tried to in- 
duce him to abate something from these charges, but 
found him immovable; he refused to abate one jot or 
title from the prices he had established. And this is a 
"benevolent" institution, with a Board of Trustees of 
eminent citizens to give it respectability. Again we 
warn the "eminent citizens" that even their cloaks can- 
not hide Dr. Hardy's sins. 


The philosopher of the Argonaut, after blaming Judge 
Field for " condescending to notice the men and journals 
in California who have spent their small lives in calumni- 
ating him," enters himself into an elaborate defense of 
Judge Field, based upon a species of argument from which 
the Judge might well ask to be delivered. He says: 

There is something in human nature that delights in misrepre- 
senting all that is above and beyond it. It delights in tearing 
down, and takes pleasure in destroying. We sometimes wonder 
whether this trait runs through nature as it does through man- 
kind ; whether the dunghill is envious of the lofty mountain, and 
compares the rising smoke of its sweating nastiness with the 
mi it-enshrouded and cloud-capped grandeur of nature's nobler 
achievements. Devils warred with angels, and evil is envious of 
all that is good. Had the Honorable Stephen J . Field stayed 
among us, a village politician, content to have remained a petti- 
fogging oracle among the small politicians that cluster around a 
crossroads court-house, with an ambition satisfied with a grog- 
shop reputation, or with being the editor of a country organ, or 
with being assistant consulting panel-shifter to some leading 
party thief, he would have had more friends among Democrats, 
and been more popular with his party mob than he is now. 

It would be interesting to know why the people of Cali- 
fornia are so envious of Judge Field that they want to 
humiliate him. Is envy the ruling passion of mankind? 
Is there " something in human nature that delights in 
misrepresenting all that is above and beyond it? " This 
is a new philosophy. We had supposed that success 
made hero-worshipers of us all. We had the impres- 
sion that it is only when a man is down that we all begin to 
kick him. Envy does not belong to the groundlings. It 
is the vice of disappointed ambition; it is the poisoned 
arrow shot from the bow of the defeated. The humble 
and unaspiring never envy the honored and exalted 
simply because they are above and beyond them. No; 
Judge Field is not the victim of envy. Not even a vicious 
Democratic mob is mean enough to want to degrade a 
good man simply because he is successful. If Judge Field 
is a victim at all, he is the victim of his injudicious defend- 
ers. Instead of indulging in vague talk about the motives 
of his defamers, why do they not boldly call upon the 
Wasp for the proofs which it boasts of possessing, of 
Judge Field's corruptibility. 


In 1868 Dr. Benjamin F. Hardy was the managing 
physician of a lying-in hospital on Jessie street, near 
Fourth, in connection with which he also kept a found- 
ling home. Two years later a colored woman named 
Charlotte Seymour, who owned a house on Washington 
street and had eight thousand dollars in bank, died, leav- 
ing the estate to a foundling asylum. Upon which a 
society of charitable ladies in this city was formed for the 
purpose of establishing the San Francisco Foundling 
Asylum. A board of forty lady managers, representing 
every religious sect and creed, took charge of the society's 
affairs, and began to collect contributions right and left, 
in order to start the home in proper shape. A house on 
the Cliff House road was hired of a woman named Har- 
ris, and the Foundling Asylum was opened on the 1st of 
September, 1870. Up to that date the ladies had collect- 
ed $1,672 45 for the maintenance of the asylum. 

No money was received from Dr. Hardy, nor had he 
any valid interest in the moneys on hand ; but for some 
reason he and other gentlemen acting under his advice, 
did take a most absorbing interest in the society's 
finances. They were always ready to help the ladies 
manage its affairs. For some reason even Dr. Hardy's 
able assistance did not greatly benefit the institution. 
Out of the first eight babes that were received at the asy- 
lum, seven died from the effects of unskillful nursing in 
two weeks. This frightful rate of mortality caused con- 
siderable talk at the time, but no one blamed the lady 
managers or Dr. Hardy, as it was the result of a mistake 
one the part of a nurse in administering camphorated oil 
instead of paregoric. The ladies stuck bravely to their 
duties until the latter part of April, 187 1, when they 
became sick and tired of the manner in which they were 
dictated to by Dr. Hardy and his associates. The Doc- 
tor ran things to suit himself, and collected and used the 
first three months' income from the Seymour estate ($297), 
without giving the ladies the slightest idea of what dispo- 
sition he had made of it. He continued to use his voice 

very frequently at the board meetings, and in every way 
showed himself to be so eager to manage the asylum's 
affairs, although he had contributed nothing but the stock 
of foundlings, that the ladies finally withdrew entirely 
from the society, abandoning all claims to it whatsoever. 
Then the Doctor grasped the helm with a firm hand, and 
has held it just as firmly ever since, for it has proved a 
mine of wealth to its happy manager. 

The house on Washington street was sold for $2,000, 
the total amount realized from the Seymour estate being 
$10,000. Not one cent of this money was ever seen by 
the lady managers. Some of the more charitable of the 
ladies continued to collect money and donations of 
clothing and food for the institution, but becoming im- 
pressed with the belief that they were contributing to the 
personal aggrandizement of the managing physician, they 
ceased their labors for the institution. Immediately after 
the ladies retired from the management, the Foundling 
Asylum was removed to the old quarters on Jessie street. 
There it remained for some time, and until the opening 
of the present San Francisco Lying-in Hospital and 
Foundling Asylum, on Golden Gate avenue, facing 
Jefferson square. It is estimated that the contributions 
by charitable persons, the sums paid by certain patients 
for admission fees and treatment, and the money advanced 
by fathers having a peculiar interest in the inmates, would 
support three such institutions in royal style. Michael 
Reese left the San Francisco Foundling Asylum $40,000, 
and this money, the former lady managers still maintain, 
was a seperate fund, intended for use only by that institu- 
tion. Dr. Hardy holds a different opinion on that subject, 
however, and the Lying-in Hospital has received a full 
share of the income from the fund. It has never been 
satisfactorily explained that Dr. Hardy has any right to 
handle moneys other than those received through charit- 
able channels, or that he can expend money intended 
for the P'oundling Asylum upon the lying-in institution. 

This is a correct version of the whole affair, as recently 
received from a number of the lady managers. An ex- 
amination of the books and papers of the society, now in 
the hands of the former Treasurer of the board, makes 
the matter still more clear. 

When the ladies, after due inquiry, found that they 
were not to receive the estate left to the Foundling Asy- 
lum by Charlotte Seymour, a committee waited on Judge 
Cowles and Judge Pratt, the executors of the will, and 
requested that they be shown the document. The ladies 
then examined the will for the first time, and saw that by 
its provisions the estate was left to the Foundling Asylum 
exclusively ; no lying-in hospital or other institution was 
mentioned in the document. They then demanded an 
explanation of Dr. Hardy. They could not understand 
by what course of reasoning he and the Board of Trustees 
of the Lying-in Hospital, who were the associates above 
referred to, could receive the whole estate. Dr. Hardy's 
Lying-in Hospital was, they were free to admit, a very 
worthy institution, and if it was greatly in need of funds 
they would willingly bestow upon it one-half of the 
amount devised to the Foundling Asylum. 

The Board of Trustees of the Lying-in Hospital there- 
upon called a meeting to consider the demand of the 
Treasurer of the Foundling Asylum that the money left 
by the will be paid into her hands immediately. The 
board had gone so far in its usurpatory and arrogative 
course as to assume the trusteeship of the Foundling Asy- 
lum, and included the name of that institution in the 
title of the society., although it was always mentioned 
among the ladies as the San Francisco Foundling Asy- 
lum, pure and simple. The meeting was held on the 10th 
of March, 187 1. 

A report of the conclusion of the Lying-in Hospital 
Trustees was embodied in a long communication from 
Dr. Hardy to the President and ladies of the managerial 
board. He said that it was impossible for him to convey 
to them in any manner the " sorrowful struggle " that had 
agitated his mind by the turn affairs had taken. " If it is 
proper for me," wrote Dr. Hardy, " I would suggest that 
if you agree with the Trustees in their conclusion, that 
you keep up your organization as an assistant board of 
managers to us, take such steps as will secure a sufficient 
fund, and be in readiness to take charge of the children 
as soon as they accumulate in sufficient numbers to justify 
your doing so. You can aid us in many ways — your 
influence may be brought to bear upon the coming Legis- 
lature, the churches, public performances, etc." The 
ladies are then consoled on the loss of their $10,000 
estate by these cheering words: " I feel sure that if half 
of the ladies would exert themselves with half the earnest- 
ness and energy that your Treasurer and a few others 
have done, neither funds nor anything else requisite for 
carrying it on would be lacking." A continuance of the 
sympathies of the ladies in the " humane and righteous 
cause " is also urgently requested. Resolutions of the 
Board of Trustees, that the Seymour fund must be used 
under their direction as the "sole managers," were 
appended. The will is interpreted by Dr. Hardy as con- 
templating a bestowal of money upon one institution in 
the "San Francisco Lying-in Hospital and Foundling 
Asylum." Another resolution was also enclosed in the 
communication. It reads: 

Resolved, That Dr. Hardy be requested to close up the build- 
ing now occupied as the Foundling Asylum, bring the children | 

to the hospital, and if possible, to cancel the lease for said . 

The lady managers then held a meeting, considers, 
the communication, expressed it as their belief that the 
money was theirs according to the provisions of the will, 
and that it would be impossible to conduct the institution 
without it. They were not willing, they said, to beg 
two hundred and fifty dollars each month from charitable 
persons for maintaining the asylum. A resolution was 
then passed, by which they withdrew altogether from the 
management of the institution. 

There are other matters in this connection which can- 
not be hinted at in this article, because they are only to 
be met with at present in the shape of ugly rumors and 
talcs unsupported by direct proof. It is suggested that 
both the positive statements and the current reports might 
be found interesting subjects for investigation by the 
proper authorities. Dr. Hardy may be as innocent as 
one of his tender foundling charges, and as guileless as 
any of the former lady managers ; but those ot the forty 
who remain on this side of Jordan's sunny strand after 
fifteen years have intervened between the founding of 
the asylum and the present time, will never be content 
if they do not live to see these matters straightened out 
and the affairs of the institution satisfactorily adjusted. 



A few months ago the intrinsic impudence of the pro- 
fessional society interviewer, and the egregious and asi- 
nine vanity of the society interviewed, was so forcibly 
illustrated by the publication of every detail of what 
should be the most sacred event in the life of a young 
and sensitive girl, as to give a check to the disgusting 
business, even in papers that make a specialty of these 
reports, and to lead at least one to abjure them altogether, 
thenceforth and forever. 

It were certainly unfair to charge all this indelicacy 
upon the itemizer that gathers and the journal that pub- 
lishes this kind of news. The simplest ratiocination must 
lead to the conclusion that if the interviewer were quietly 
but firmly shown to the door, or even, in the event of 
persistence, quietly but firmly kicked down the front 
steps, the interview would end before it began. Our 
reportorial corps are, as a rule, not so obtuse that a hint 
of this nature would not be almost certainly regarded as 
an obstacle to future visits of investigation. 

The main cause of these invasions (usually inaccurately 
described as " unwarranted ") of domestic privacy un- 
doubtedly lies in the lack of that spirit of delicate ret- 
icence and reserve that constitutes the divinity which 
doth (or, alas! more frequently dothn't) hedge a young 
and modest maiden in regard to the affairs of her heart. 
When a girl, in the pride and flush of victory over some weak 
captive in chains, hangs out her banner (of papers having 
" the largest circulation ") on the outward wall, to apprise 
a vulgarly curious and gaping public of the fact, she 
thereby lays herself liable to a thousand humiliations in 
the publication of those little contretemps which must 
now and then occur while men are fickle and lovers fleet- 
ing. To be jilted by an ignorant pretender is an unusual 
piece of good luck; but to become an object of public 
pity or ridicule — ay, there's the rub. 

And all this mortification arises in the first instance 
from one source — "Society Notes." That man or 
woman who never stubbed his or her toe or slipped down 
in the mud, has been exceptionally lucky. In appealing 
to this experience we refer to one of those universal mis- 
haps that makes the whole world kin. And is there one 
who can honestly say that his first impulse was not to 
look wildly around to see if any one was looking? So- 
ciety reporting insures an audience for every stubbed toe 
and tumble in the ditch that may befall us. And, if we read 
with a vulgar delight the public chronicle of our festivi- 
ties, our fine clothes, and our engagements, we must 
take the consequences, and view with such equanimity 
as we may the record of our downfalls and humiliations. 

Franc ksca. 

Says the London Academy, March 14th: "The Mu- 
seum of New York is unrivaled in the multitude and 
quality of its sculptures and antiquities from Cyprus. It 
owes this position to its present director, General Ces- 
nola. By extraordinary strokes of good tort tine, occur- 
ring now and then as the reward of many years of 
incessant and expensive excavation, he was able to form 
a collection which has proved since then a constant and 
grateful source of new ideas to those who have been oc- 
cupied with that most interesting period of Greek art 
the period of its intimacy with the Phoenicians. The 
Cesnola collection has given us, so to speak, the standard 
of Phoenician skill. If archaeologists owed General 
Cesnola no other debt than this, they would have good 
reason to be thankful." 

The Hon. Abram S. Hewitt, after learning of Mr. S. 
S. Cox's nomination to be Minister to Turkey, wrote to 
President Cleveland that it was a mistake. Mr. Cox, he 
said, was needed at home by the administration. " The 
navy must be looked after; the tariff must be revised. 
Mr. Cox is the Great Commoner, and his place is in Con- 

On the lyceum platform Mr. Samuel L. Clemens pre- 
serves steadfastly a countenance of agonizing perplexity, 
while tellinc his funniest stories. 




Across the Chasm, an anonymous novel, written by a 
Southern lady, and published by Scribner & Company, 
is a story of American life. The scenes are laid in 
Washington and a small town in the South. The hero 
is a Yankee, while the heroine is a southern girl, both 
having the prejudices peculiar to their respective locali- 
ties. Mutual love triumphing over prejudice is the happy 
sequel of this story. For sale by A. L. Bancroft &: Com- 

Poems, by J. D. Steell, is just out, published by the 
Golden Era Company. The " Ode on the Death of Gar- 
field" is the most ambitious poem, and by far the best 
in the collection. There are a number of sonnets and 
odes which show a thoughtful turn of mind, and are im- 
bued with a deep religious sentiment. The book is 
neatly bound. For sale at all news-stands. 

Tfie Russians at the Gates of Herat, by Charles Marvin, 
is very appropos at this time. Mr. Marvin uses the word 
"lie" very frequently in speaking of Russian diplomacy, 
a practice which is very common among English writers 
at present, though an unbiassed reader is at a loss to see the 
justice of the charge. It would be in better taste, and 
enhance the value of the book, if it were written in a less 
partisan spirit. The volume has a number of illustrations 
and maps, and contains a great deal of valuable informa- 
tion. Published by Scribner & Sons. For sale by A. 
L. Bancroft & Company. 

On a Margin, a novel of Wall street and Washington, 
by an anonymous writer, is the title of a stirring story. 
It is evidently the work of a practiced hand, and the sit- 
uations are novel, and in some instances almost improb- 
able. Fact is stranger than fancy, and On a Margin 
leaves a suspicion that its characters are disguised in 
name only. Published by Ford, Howard & Hurlburt, 
27 Park place, New York. For sale by the booksellers. 

Look \\ ithin is a neat little compendium of five thou- 
sand facts, compiled by Hon. A. R. Spofford, Librarian 
of Congress. This little literary kaleidoscope contains 
seventy-five pages, and is embellished by nine plates in 
two colors, after the manner of the United States census 
reports. The book is published by A. H. Andrews & 
Company. For sale by all booksellers. Price fifteen 

Child and State, published by Charles A. Murdock, 
532 Clay street, is a quarterly, devoted to the interests of 
the Boys and Girls' Aid Society, one of the most worthy 
charitable institutions in the state. Unlike other chari- 
ties, the Boys and Girls' Aid Society has never been mis- 
managed, and it is partly through this, and because of its 
earnest zeal for unfortunate children, that the managers 
have deemed it advantageous to print a paper devoted to 
the society's interests. The little sheet has already been 
warmly received, and it is to be hoped will be successful. 

F. J. Fargus (Hugh Conway) is ill, of typhoid fever. 

Victor Hugo does not wear an overcoat. He still says, 
" My overcoat is my youth." 

Mrs. Abbey Morton Diaz, the authoress, will spend the 
summer in Belmont, with her son, Mr. Robert M. Diaz. 

Mr. W. D. Howells, in the conclusion of his last install- 
ment of The Rise and Rail of Silas Lapham, touches high- 
water mark. 

Mr. Francis Parkman's Historical Hand Book of the 
Northern Tour is shortly to be published by Little, 
Brown &: Company. 

Dr. Bartholow says that Carlyle suffered greatly from 
dyspeptic symptoms, which were invariably aggravated 
after eating oatmeal. 

Mrs. Pitman (Margery Deane) and her friend Mrs. Cut- 
ting are still in Washington, where they are receiving con- 
siderable social attention. 

Mr. Howells's new serial, An Indian Summer, will be 
begun in the July number of Harper's Magazine, as he 
believes in being in good season. 

Mr. Clinton Scollard, the young poet, who has been 
spending the winter in Cambridge, is to give the alumni 
poem at Hamilton College this commencement. 

Mrs. Louise Chandler Moulton is in Rome, where she 
went from Naples. She will pass May in Florence, as the 
guest of Mrs. Clements Waters, and June at Aix-les- 

The recent course of lectures on " Free Trade," by 
Mr. E. L. Godkin, of the Nation, has been among the 
most interesting as well as the most instructive given at 
Harvard College this year. 

Readers of Mr. James's story running in the Century 
will observe that our railroads have become "railways," 
that our water pitchers have bourgeoned into " jugs," and 
our hacks into " hackney coaches." 

Mr. Barrett Wendell, of whom the Critic had never 
heard up to the time when his romance, Tfie Duchess 
Emilia, was published, was a classmate at Harvard of 
Robert Grant, John T. Wheelwright, and "J. S. of 

The late Richard Grant White has left a son, Stanford 
White, who will be sure to prove a worthy successor to 
his father's name. He is one of the most talented young 

architects in New York, a member of the firm of McKeen 
& White. 

Rev. Samuel Longfellow's Life, Letters, and Journals 
of the late Henry Wadm>orth Longfellow will be one of 
the most important publications of the early autumn.' It 
will be issued in two handsome volumes, by Messrs. J. 
R. Osgood & Company. 

The Spectator, writing of Mr. Parkman's Montcalm and 
Wolfe, says the author recalls both Macaulay and G. R. 
Green. Like Mr. Green, Mr. Parkham has an enthusi- 
astic interest in the past. He has all the love— amount- 
ing nearly to a passion — for the making of America that 
Mr. Green had for the making of England. 

Genial W. H. Thomes, who has given the reading world 
so many stories of border life, while on a visit here a few 
weeks ago sent home the following postal to his friend, 
Captain A. A. Folsom: " Alt a, April 2d. — I am sur- 
rounded by hostile Injuns, but keep them at bay with my 
hoss pistol. They clamor for fire-water, and so do all of 
us." Later he writes: "San Francisco, April 21st. 
Have escaped the perils of the plains, savages, etc., and 
arrived here safe at eleven a. m., and hang me if I am 
not wearied." 

Alfred, Lord Tennyson, Poet Laureate of England, is 
receiving marked attention from the press, both at home 
and in this country, for his hysterical war lyric in the 
London Times. Had the poem been sent to the 
Thunderer with an unknown name attached, it would 
have been thrown into the waste basket, for if ever there 
was a springy poem sent forth to distract the nerves, this 
war lyric is one. Its rhythm has been likened to the 
gentle music of a quartz-crusher. Its effect is like the 
chorus in the last act of Wagner's Die IVa/kiiere — you 
hear the conglomerate sounds that utterly bewilder you, 
but do not know their purport. 

Mark Twain appeared at the Wednesday afternoon 
author's reading last week, at the Madison Square The- 
ater, in evening dress, because, as he explained with his 
nasal drawl, " He knew it would be night before they got 
to him." While Mr. Howells was reading from his un- 
published story, Mark Twain "writhed" — he doesn't 
laugh when he laughs — and stamped his foot and slapped 
his knees vigorously. Mr. Howells's remark, in the course 
of his reading, " How much easier it is to make one's 
peace with one's God than with one's wife," seems to 
have tickled the risibilities of the clergy on the platform, 
for Bishop Potter is reported to have laughed until he 
was red in the face, and poor Bishop Coxe laughed until 
he cried. 

Judge Lawrence, of the New York Supreme Court, 
has decided that Joaquin Miller is the author of the play 
known as '49, in which McKee Rankin has been acting. 
He says that a comparison of its text with the text of 
California Gold and Old '49, of which Miller is the 
acknowledged author, has convinced him that it is 
derived from them, and that his conviction is strengthened 
by testimony of expert dramatists given in the course of 
the trial. California Gold and Old '49 were committed 
by Miller to the custody of Rankin some time prior to the 
production by the latter of '49. In Judge Lawrence's 
opinion, the fact that Rankin copyrighted the title '49, 
and that he may have made suggestions to Miller respect- 
ing the text of the play from which '49 is held to have 
been derived, give him no right to make use of the pro- 
duction without compensating the author. A decree was 
therefore given, directing Rankin to hand the manuscripts 
of the three plays to Miller, and to pay him fifteen dollars 
for each past performance of '49. 

The author of John Halifax, Gentleman, has positive 
opinions on marriage as connected with genius. Re- 
ferring to Carlyle, she says : " Two people, man and 
wife, of whom one was supposed to be, and both really 
were, wonderfully gifted, succeeded in making each 
other thoroughly miserable. Why? Because the 
woman married, out of wounded feminine pride or for 
ambition, a self-absorbed, egotistical, bad-tempered man, 
who had ruined his constitution by his persistent break- 
ing of every law of health. Disappointed, neglected, 
she does her wifely duty in a literal way, but she sea- 
sons it with incessant complaints and the cruel use of that 
weapon which is a gentlewoman's instinctive defense 
against a boor — sarcasm. He, too, lived a life unim- 
peachable externally, but within full of rancor, malice 
and a selfishness which approached absolute cruelty ; his 
peasant nature perpetually blinding him to the sufferings 
of his wife, more gently born and gently bred, while her 
morbid sensitiveness exaggerated trivial vexations into 
great misfortunes, and mere follies into actual crimes. 
All this wretchedness sprang, not from the man's genius, 
but his bad qualities, which, had he been a brain- 
less ass, would have made his wife's life and his own just 
as miserable. Yet society moans out the moral, ' Never 
marry a genius ! ' or the worse one ' If you do marry a 
genius you must condone all his short-comings ; lay your- 
self down as a mat for him to rub his shoes on; give 
him everything and expect from him nothing, not even 
the commonest rules of domestic courtesy and social 
morality.' " Ferret. 

Did you ever see a salad dressing? 


Colonel Robert G. Ingersoll lectured upon "Ortho- 
doxy," in New York city, recently. The following are 
extracts from that discourse : 

After all, we know so little. Life is so short; it is such 
a little way from the lap of our mother to the lap of the 
mother of us all ; we are so hampered by the force of 
habit, so trammeled by custom, that it is impossible for 
us to know much— and the more we learn the less we find 
we know. It becomes us to have the modesty of mor- 

In the graveyard of the ages, in the cemetery of time, 
there are thousands of dead gods. Many of them, in 
their day, were just as powerful, had just as many follow- 
ers, as the Christian God of our day. 

In the natural course of human events the new attacks 
the old, and the old gives way to the new. Yet there are 
to-day men who, if you differ from them, will denounce 
you as everything that is bad, will conceive that you are 
doing something, in thus differing from them, which is 
equivalent to a crime. These are the kind of people who 
imagine that heaven is a kind of museum filled with Cath- 
olic curiosities, Baptist barnacles, Methodist mummies, 
and Presbyterian petrifactions. 

Yes, the new attacks the old, and the old gives way. 
There have been the astrologer, pretending to forecast 
the future ; the prophet, in rags and long of hair ; the alche- 
mist, bent and wrinkled, striving with pestle and mortar 
to convert the baser metals into gold — all these have gone, 
and have been replaced by the scientist, adding wealth 
to the world and giving new joys to the human race. We 
have lost nothing by the exchange. 

There have been, too, the soothsayer and the medicine- 
man, pretending that they knew something of the desires 
of their deities. They also are gone. In their places we 
have popes, cardinals, bishops, parsons, and exhorters. 
We have gained nothing by that exchange. But they in 
their turn will have to go, and in their places will come 
better teachers and truer interpreters. We shall lose 
nothing by that exchange. We are tired of getting skim- 
med milk here, and a promise of butter by and by up in 
the clouds. 

No man has a right to stand at the altar as a high priest 
unless behind him he has a fact — unless he can teach 
how there shall be less poverty, less unhappiness, less 
human agony; more comfort, more happiness, more 
brightness. Let one of the chief duties of the priest be 
to show how to deepen the dimples of joy in the cheek of 

Give expression to your doubts, I beg of you. A doubt 
is the bud of an idea. If you give it the sunlight of 
thought, it may blossom. The man who suppresses a 
doubt is a kind of Herod who kills a child of the brain. 

I am doing my best for the clergy. They teach that 
you are to love your enemies; but, somehow, they don't 
seem to love me. Sometimes I believe that this is be- 
cause they know that I know that they don't know, and 
these feelings toward me are, under the circumstances, 
quite natural, for there is just as much of human nature 
in a preacher — when you are not looking at him — as in 
any one else. 

The old-fashioned preacher was a terror. He used to 
go about his parish, bringing gloom into every place of 
joy he could find. To look at him you would think that 
joy had died, and that he was one of the pall-bearers. 
He went about talking of coffins, epitaphs, tortures, hell, 
and similar cheerful topics. These he characterized as 
" tidings of great joy." People in those days used to ask 
the preacher if they wanted to know about anything. 
Now they only ask him if they don't. I tell you the new 
is getting away with the old. 

So many new forms of promotion, so many new ave- 
nues to preferment, to fame, to glory, to wealth, have 
sprung up for bright men to enter into, that the pulpit has 
to put up with what is left. You all know how the cler- 
gyman is made. Some good young man is selected. 
He has not constitution enough to be very wicked ; he 
has not quite enough breadth of chest to sit up late at 
night ; at once the cry is raised, " What a good clergyman 
he would make ! " So he is sent to an institution where 
he pledges himself not to think. Just imagine a teacher 
who is not to think! He does not reason. If an idea 
comes into his head he forthwith believes that it must 
have been put there by the devil. He becomes a sort of 
phonograph, with memory as the crank. He makes a 
living by talking about what he does not know, and there 
is no danger of his running out of raw material. Now 
and then some minister gets an idea and makes up his mind 
to go on a species of intellectual spree. The next Sun- 
day he really gives expression to this idea. There ensues 
quite an excitement among the congregation. The par- 
son has got an idea. The newspapers eagerly chronicle 
the unusual happening. Parson is elated. Next Sunday 
he has two ideas. Then the Bishop puts his hand on him 
and — he sits down. 

According to description, Jehovah stands over man 
with a club in his hand, and cries, " Love me, or I will 
knock you to hell in a moment!" Men cannot love by 
compulsion. We are told to love a God who once 
ordered a man to commit murder. If God ordered me 
to murder my wife, I should firmly but respectfully de- 
cline. 1 would give him the satisfaction of knowing that 
he had created one man who loved something more than 
he feared anything. 

It is better to love your wife than to adore God. It is 
better to love your little children than to love Jesus Christ. 
Put joy in their hearts, fill their lives with happiness — 
that's religion. But, cries the parson, you take away the 
consolation of our religion. What consolation? Hell — 
that's all. 

Mrs. Garfield is worth about $450,000, which nets her 
an income, at four per cent, of $16,000 a year. Her pen- 
sion from Congress is $5,000 a year, making her entire 
resources $21,000 a year. 


T T 


Within the past twenty-five years the Americans have 
become the most expert silver miners in the world, and 
American explorers for silver — "prospectors" — are the 
best, most enterprising and untiring on the face of the 
globe. When the silver mines of Nevada were discovered, 
in 1859, our people knew nothing, or next to nothing, of 
silver mining or the reduction of silver ores. Not one 
man in ten thousand — even on the Pacific coast — had 
ever seen an ore of silver. Indeed, it is a historical fact 
that the discoverers of the silver lode since known as the 
Comstock did not at first know that the vein they were 
working contained any precious metal but gold. It was 
not until a California assayer had made a critical exami- 
nation of the heavy " black stuff," the presence of which 
had for many weeks worried the men, who were alone in- 
tent upon extracting the gold it contained, that silver was 
even so much as thought of. Now our miners talk as 
glibly of stephanite, argentite, proustite, cerargyrite, and 
pyrargyrite as our farmers talk of wheat, oats, corn, and 

The announcement of the discovery of silver on the 
eastern slope of the Sierra Nevada mountains was like a 
galvanic shock to all the Mexicans at that time in Cali- 
fornia. Being familiar with silver mines and silver mining 
in their own country, news of the finding of silver ore of 
the richest character just across the mountains in Nevada 
(then western Utah) created an intense excitement among 
these people. 

In the Mexican quarter of every mining town in Cali- 
fornia resounded the cry of " Plata , plata, platal" Over 
the Sierras they tramped, trundled and packed, dropping 
their gold placers in California as not being worthy of a 
moment's thought, once the magic cry of "Plata! ' had 
been raised. 

The Mexicans were then looked upon as the leading 
silver miners of the world. Their experience of hundreds 
of years was supposed to have led them to perfection in 
all the processes of mining and working silver ores. The 
word of the Mexican miner, when he arrived at the Com- 
stock, was "law and gospel." All samples of rock 
brought in by prospectors scouting among the hills were 
carried to him to be inspected and pronounced upon. 
The commonest Mexican mule-driver found himself a 
personage of importance. He was thought to know more 
about silver, and the innermost secrets of nature in its 
production, than even the best informed assayer in the 
camp. His eye was supposed to have been educated from 
infancy to penetrate at a glance to the very center any 
stone containing silver, his brain at the same time mak- 
ing instant analysis of all its components. 

The American who could secure a Mexican — even one 
of the half-Indian class called "Greasers " — for a partner, 
thought his fortune as good as made. He freely furnished 
money, provisions, tools, and all else that was required, or 
that his Greaser demanded. Though he knew nothing 
of the " oolite series," the " miocene period," or the 
" pleistocene strata," the Mexican was believed to be 
possessed of an innate knowledge of all of the rocks of 
the earth far surpassing the merely acquired rock-lore of 
any professed geologist. The Greaser was as carefully 
nourished, cherished and propitated as if he had been a 
gnome newly risen from the silver caverns under the roots 
of the mountains. 

The prospector who had no familiar spirit of his own in 
the shape of a Greaser, would capture the first he could 
find, and, after " propitiating" him with liberal sacrifices 
of vino or aguadiente would lead him to some secret 
nook, and bring forth a sample of rock for his inspection, 
with the question — "Plata?" 

Although the sample was probably nothing more valu- 
able than a lump of manganese or a bit of black gypsum, 
utterly barren of metal, the Mexican would cry : "Mucho 
plata — muy bueno! " If he had not been properly propi- 
tiated the oracle would pretend to examine the rock very 
carefully, and would say in answer to the American s 

" Muy poco, sehor—muy pobre " (very little, sir — very 

If some enthusiastic prospector who felt sure that he 
had found his fortune, thrust under the Mexican's nose 
his pet specimen, and without due propitiation wjth vino 
or dinero asked, " Es este bueno? " he was very likely to 
be told " Me parecer que no valer nada" (it is good for 

Thus the bueno of a Mexican, who perhaps was never 
within a hundred miles of a silver mine in his native land, 
and who probably crossed the Sierra in the capacity of 
mule-driver for some party of his countrymen, would 
cause the heart of the American miner of that day to leap 
for joy, while his mal was felt as a blow to all hope — was 
final and fatal — a real wrt/ediction. 

Even the Maldonados, and other Mexicans of the bet- 
ter class, who secured a foothold on the Comstock (buy- 
ing what has since been known as the Mexican mine), set 
no good example for the American miners. They went 
to work in the primitive style of mining that has prevailed 
in Mexico for generations, carrying the ore to the surface 
up notched poles (escaleras) in rawhide sacks, grinding 
it in arastras, and extracting the silver by means of the 
patio (or floor) process. For the smelting of ores, they 
could show nothing more effective than the ordinary hearth 
furnace ( chacuaco). 

Such were the mining methods the Mexicans intro- 
duced. At a bound the inventive genius and enterprise 
of the American lelt the Spaniard and the Greaser far in 
the rear. He set up steam hoisting and pumping ma- 
chinery, and in crushing the ore substituted for the arastra 
iron stamps. Critically examining the Mexican patio pro- 
cess, the American found that instead of spreading the 
pulverized ore upon a floor or yard, sprinkling it with salt, 
sulphate of copper and quicksilver, and alternately raking 
it into a heap for a sweat, and scattering it abroad to the 
air, day after day for two or three weeks, he could greatly 
shorten the long and tedious operation. He discovered 
that by placing the pulp in iron pans, with a proper dose 

of salt, sulphate of copper, and quicksilver, then heating 
the whole bj means of steam introduced into a false 
bottom under the pan, and stirring by machinery, the 
time required for the extraction of the silver was reduced 
from weeks to hours. 

On the Pacific coast at the time of the discovery of the 
Nevada silver mines there were a few Germans from Frei- 
berg, some of whom had studied at the Kerg academy, or 
school of mines, and all these came rushing across the 
mountains with the Mexicans. Although the ores of 
Freiberg are different from the free-milling sulphuret and 
chloride ores of the Comstock, the Germans had 
advanced ideas of mining operations and good scientific 
knowledge of ores, several of them being practical assay- 
ers and mineralogists. From the Germans our people 
obtained much useful information and valuable practical 
knowledge of mining machinery and amalgamating appa- 

On the spot was invented a method of supporting 
mines as the ore is extracted, which is superior to any 
plan in use in any European country. This is the system 
of timbering by means of what are called "square sets," 
being timbers framed together in such a way as to form 
squares of about five feet on all sides, which squares may 
be multiplied indefinitely, thus solidly filling up even the 
largest openings. 

Soon after news of the discovery of silver reached the 
East, quite a number of experienced miners came in from 
the copper mines of Lake Superior. These men brought 
useful knowledge in regard to the stamping of ores and 
methods of work in the deep levels of mines. 

The great richness of the ores of the Comstock silver 
mines enabled their owners to make many costly experi- 
ments, and to adopt and improve upon the best mining 
machinery in use in any country known to the mining 
world. The ideas and inventions of all nations were 
brought together, and the best of each taken and united 
for the formation of a perfect whole. 

Thus, within the short space of twenty-five years from 
our first sight of silver ore, we have absorbed all the sil- 
ver-mining knowledge of the nations of the Old World, 
and have advanced far beyond what is known there in 
several departments. We have become — or are fast be- 
coming — a silver-mining nation. Than our people, no 
better judges of ores of all kinds — both smelting and mill- 
ing — are to be found in any part of the world. 

From the Comstock silver mines as a radiating point, 
prospectors have spread to Utah, Idaho, Montana, New 
Mexico, Arizona, and to nearly every other region in 
which mining for silver is now being successfully prose- 
cuted. The United States government has also done 
noble work in disseminating knowledge of mining and 
ore-reducing methods as practiced here. It has sent to 
the Comstock parties of seientific observers, who have for 
months made the mines and operations connected there- 
with their study, and through the publication of the accu- 
rate and beautiful maps and drawings and carefully 
written reports of these men, has made known to the 
whole country what has here been achieved. 

Wherever silver ore exists in the United States, it will 
now soon be brought to light. Returned miners — gradu- 
ates of the Comstock mines — at once proceed to explore 
the country about their old homes in the East for the 
precious metals. Thus the men who came hither from 
the Lake Superior country, presently returning, carry 
back with them such knowledge as made them experts 
wherever silver ore existed in any form, and in this way 
valuable mines have been discovered in that region, in 
Dakota, Canada and other northern regions. 

While some of our people are searching in Georgia, 
North Carolina, Virginia and other states along the Ap- 
palachian chain of mountains, others, particularly those 
of the Pacific coast, are scouting into the unexplored 
regions of Alaska and British Columbia — have even 
pushed down to near the opposite Pole in Patagonia. 
Not a few of our Pacific coast miners have received calls 
to Brazil, South America, Africa, India, China, Japan 
and Russia, while others have wandered away to other 
remote corners of the globe, carrying with them as their 
sole stock in trade their advanced knowledge of mining 

" Once a miner always a miner," and whether in Ori- 
ental or Occidental lands, the eyes of the traveling min- 
ing-man always turn lovingly toward rocky mountains and 
rugged hills, and he feels an almost irresistible longing to 
halt and make explorations. Plains are well enough 
where there are no mountains, and ruins and monuments 
where there are to be seen no living rocks. In Egypt the 
mining-man feels a desire to pan-out the Pyramids, in 
Rome to tunnel the Tiber, and at Jerusalem to drift into 
the Mount of Olives or to sink a shaft on Mount Zion. — 
Dan De Quille, in Current. 


I don't appwovc this hawid waw: 
Those dweadful bannahs hawt my eyes; 

And guns and dwums are such a haw — 
Why don't the pa W ties compwoniise? 

Of cawce, the twoilet has its chawms; 

Hut why must all the vulgah cwowd 
Pawsist in spawting unifawms 

In 1 nil. 1I1 . so cxtwemcly loud? 

And then the ladies, precious dealt! I 
I mawk the change on ev'wy liwow; 

Hai Jove! I weally have my feahs 
They wathah like the hawid wow! 

To heah the chawming cweatures talk, 
Like patwons of the Moody wing, 

Of waw and all its dawty wawk — 
It doesn't seem a pwappah thing! 

I called at Mrs. (jwecn's last night, 
To sec her niece, Miss Mary Hertz, 

And found her making— cwushing sight! — 
The weddest kind of flannel shirts! 

Of cawee, I wosc and sought the daw, 
With fawyah flashing fwom my eyes! 

I can't appwovc this hawid waw. 
Why don't the pawties compwomise! 


The student of history reads of the great sea fight 
which King Edward III fought with the French off Sluys ; 
how in those days the merchant vessels came up to the 
walls of that flourishing seaport by every tide; and how, 
a century later, a Portuguese fleet conveyed Isabella from 
Lisbon, and an English fleet brought Margaret of York 
from the Thames to marry successive dukes of Burgundy 
at the port of Sluys. In our time, if a modern traveler 
drives twelve miles out of Bruges, across the Dutch fron- 
tier, he will find a small agricultural town surrounded by 
cornfields and meadows and clumps of trees, where the 
sea is not in sight from the top of the town-hall steeple. 
This is Sluys. 

We turn now to the great Raie du Mont St. Michael, 
between Normandy and Brittany. In Roman authors 
we read of the vast forest called " Setiacum Nemus," in 
the center of which an isolated rock arose, surmounted 
by a temple of Jupiter, once a college of Druidesses. 
Now, the same rock, with its glorious pile dedicated to 
St. Michael, is surrounded by the sea at high tides. The 
story of this transformation is even more striking than 
that of Sluys, and its adequate narration justly earned 
for M. Manet the gold medal of the French Geographi- 
cal Society in 1828. 

Let us turn for a moment to the Mediterranean shores 
of Spain and the mountains of Murcia. Those rocky 
heights, whose peaks stand out against the deep blue sky, 
scarcely support a blade of vegetation. The aluarobas 
and olives at their bases are artificiallly supplied with soil. 
It is scarcely credible that these are the same mountains 
which, according to the forest book of King Alfonso el 
Sabio, were once clothed to their summits with pines and 
other forest trees, while soft clouds and mist hung over a 
rounded, shaggy outline of wood where now the naked 
rocks make a hard line against the burnished sky. But 
Arab and Spanish chroniclers alike record the facts, and 
geographical science explains the cause. There is 
scarcely a district in the whole range of the civilized 
world where some equally interesting geographical story 
has not been recorded, and where the same valuable les- 
sons may not be taught. This is comparative geography. 

Captain L. U. Herandeen, who has spent years in sail- 
ing the Pacific, relates facts that he had observed, which 
tend to prove the theory set forth by Dana, that there is 
an immense area of the Pacific ocean bed, lying under 
the equator, about 6,000 miles in length and about 3,000 in 
breadth, that has been gradually sinking lower anil lower 
for thousands of years. The first thing that called the 
attention of scientific men to this fact was the formation 
of the innumerable atolls and barrier reefs in that part of 
the Pacific ocean. They found on the outskirts of this 
area that there were islands fringed with coral reefs. 

"As they sailed past these beautiful islands they saw 
other islands with a barrier circling them. A coral reef 
a few feet below the surface of the water girdled the 
island at a distance from it varying from a half to thirty 
miles, and whose presence was marked by a ring of 
snowy foam made by the breakers. As they penetrated 
further into the region of the sea they came upon atolls, 
which are formed by circles of coral enclosing a smooth 
sheet of water. These lagoons were found to vary in dia- 
meter from thirty miles or more to only a few feet, but 
corals do not build their reefs at a greater depth than a 
hundred feet, and yet by sounding these singular reefs in 
the Pacific ocean it was found that the coral reached as 
far as the fathom line went. The conclusion of scientific 
men was that the bed of the ocean was gradually sinking, 
and that the corals began to build fringing reefs on the 
islands, and as the land sank, the corals kept steadily at 
work building up as fast as the land went down. As the 
land disappeared, the fringing reefs became atolls or 
circles of coral enclosing a calm lagoon. It was found 
that the reefs below a hundred feet are dead, and it is 
inferred that at a lower depth than that the corals were 
killed by cold. This is the generally accepted theory in 
regard to the subsidence of the Pacific. A few years ago 
I stopped at Pouynipcte Island, in the Pacific, in east 
longitude 158 degrees, 22 minutes, and north latitude 60 
degrees, 50 minutes. The island is surrounded by a reef, 
with a broad ship channel between it and the island. 

"At places in the reef there were natural breaks that 
served as entrances to the harbors. In these ship chan- 
nels there were a number of islands, many of which were 
surrounded by a wall of stone gve or six feet high, and on 
these islands there stood a great many low houses, built 
of the same kind of stone as the walls about them. 
These structures seem to have been used as temples and 
forts. The singular feature of these islands is that the 
walls are a foot or more below the water. When they 
were built they were evidently above the water and con- 
nected with the main land, but they have gradually sunk 
until the sea has risen a foot or more around them. The 
natives on the island do not know when these works were 
built; it is so far back in the past that they have no tradi- 
tion of the structures. Yet the works show signs of great 
skill, and certainly prove that whoever built them knew 
thoroughly how to transport and lift heavy blocks of 
stone. Up in the mountains of the island there is a 
quarry of the same kind of stone that was used in build- 
ing the wall about the islands, and in that quarry to-day 
there are great blocks of stone that have been hewn out 
ready for transportation. The natives have no tradition 
touching the quarry. There is no doubt that the island was 
once inhabited by an intelligent race of people, who built 
the temples and forts of heavy masonry on the high bluffs 
of the island, and that as the land gradually subsided 
these bluffs became islands."— Exchange. 

Mr. W. D. Howclls, in a forthcoming new novel, 
declares that it is a defect of the literary temperament to 
feel that it atones for its own wrong-doing by the effect 
with which it has portrayed it, and mentions the case of a 
hen-pecked New England divine who used to think how 
much easier it was to make oncc's peace with oncc's 
Maker than with once's wife. 

I 2 



Hamlet traced in imagination the noble dust 
of Alexander until it wasTound stopping a bung- 
hole, just as — 

" Ini|)erious Cxsar, dead, and turned to clay, 
Might stop a hole to keep the wind away." 

But it was reserved for this age of surprises to 
present the actual fact of a Cicsar's dust l>eing 
employed for the lye of a Roman woman's wash- 
tub. Hie description Tacitus eives of theevents 
connected with the tragic death of the Emperor 
Galba in the Forum has a particular interest for 
the archivologist, for it includes some valuable 
topographical indications. Scholars are well 
acquainted with the full details reported by that 
historian, and corroborated by Plutarch, Sue- 
tonius, and others; but 1 must briefly recapitu- 
late the facts in illustration ol an important dis- 
covery that has been made in connection with 
them, and what followed it. On the eighteenth 
day before the calends of February, A. D. 6q, 
Galba was present at a sacrifice in that Temple 
of Apollo, on the Palatine, built by Augustus. 
Before the rite was completed Olho, who was in 
attendance, was informed by his freedman, Ono- 
mastus, that the architects were waiting for him. 
He made the excuse that he had to confer with 
them concerning some property he was about 
to purchase, and, leaving the temple, he passed 
through the house of. Tiberius on to the Vela- 
crum, and thence to the Milliarium Aureum, 
near the temple of Saturn, where twenty-three of 
the Praetorian Guard saluted him as limperor, and 
placing him in a litter, carried him to their 
camp. Intelligence of what had occurred speed- 
ily reached the palace. Galba hesitated as to 
what course to pursue. Should he follow the 
suggestion of Titus Yinius, the Consul, who 
advised his barricading himself in the palace, or 
adopt the more vigorous measures recommended 
by Laco and others? He decided for the latter, 
and girding on his cuirass, was carried in a lit- 
ter down to the Forum. The porticoes of the 
Basilicas and the steps of the temples were 
crowded with people alarmed and as yet unable 
to understand the nature of the impending revo- 
lution. Galba was borne about in various 
directions by the pressure of the multitude. 
Again he was distracted with divided counsels. 
Some urged his immediate return to the palace; 
others were for taking possession of the Kostra 
and the Capitol. At this juncture, Otho's ad- 
herents, with swords drawn, rushed headlong 
into the Forum. The people fled in consterna- 
tion ; Galba's litter was overturned near the Cur- 
tian Lake; a soldier of the Fifteenth Legion cut 
the Emperor's throat as he lay upon the ground; 
another hacked the head from the body and, as 
there was no hair to carry it by, thrust his finger 
into the mouth and carried it thus, like a cod- 
fish, to Otho. At the same time Titus Yinius 
was slain just in front of the Temple of Julius, a 
few yards distant. 

But these tragedies were accompanied by an- 
other, just as bloody antl lar more piteous. Only 
four (lays previously Galba had adopted Piso 
Licinianus as his son and successor, and pro- 
claimed him Cesar. He was a young man of 
illustrious descent, and had scarcely completed 
his thirty-first year. 1 1 is father was M. Licinius 
Crassus, who was Consul, together with Cal- 
phurnius Piso, A. D. 27. His mother, Scribonia, 
was the great-granddaughter of Pompey the 
Great. Suetonius and Plutarch speak of him as 
a youth of noble character and great promise. 
'Tacitus makes Galba say that he was induced 
by his rare accomplishments to raise him to the 
imperial dignity. He had suffered adversity, 
but his worldly prospects were now bright, and 
he was happy in his marriage with Yerania, 
daughter ol Quint US Yeranius, who was Con- 
sul together with Caius Pompeius Gallus, the 
same year Claudius and Agrippina were married. 
Piso, after addressing the soldiers from the steps 
of the palace, and making other efforts to turn 
the tide, accompanied Galba down to the Forum. 
By the devotion of the centurion of the guards 
attending him, he was able in the confusion to 
escape into the House of the Yestals. One of 
their slaves gave him shelter in his room, but 
finally, having been discovered by Sulpicius 
Florus, a British soldier, and Statius Marcus, 
a Praetorian, who had been sent by Otho in 
quest of him, he was dragged forth and butchered 
in front of the temple. When the head of Galba 
was taken to Otho, he exclaimed : " A;//;/ est 
hoc, O commit it ones ; caput Pisonis mihi osten- 
ditc" and the head of Piso was severed from his 
body and carried to the new Emperor. He 
gazed on it with supreme satisfaction, and then, 
yielding to the gilded supplications of Yerania, 
sold it with the body to her for a large sum of 
money. The mutilated remainsof Piso (I quote 
now also from the information just obtained) 
were religiously burned by his distracted widow 
and his brother Scribonius, and his ashes were 
finally inclosed in a handsome white marble 
cippus, placed in the tomb of the Eicinian fam- 
ily on the Yia Appia, a short distance outside 
the Porta Collina. 

'The site of the Curtian I.ake, where Galba fell 
from his litter and was butchered ; the remains 
of the Temple of Julius, where Yinius was slain, 
and of the House of the Yestals, into which Piso 
Bad, have all been restored to light. 'We can 
stand at those spots and call up the memory of 
the events themselves; and now the actual 
scene where the last act of this tragedy, as it 
concerns Piso, was performed, has been discov- 
ered. 'The workmen busy in digging the founda- 
tions for one of the new line of houses just within 
the modern Porta Salaria, encountered that by no 
means rare phenomenon of the ground sounding 
hollow beneath them; and there below they 
found a vaulted chamber, the hypogcum of a 
family tomb, with seven handsome marble cippi 
standing in their places around it— that in which 
the weeping Yerania placed the alabaster urn 
containing the ashes of her husband exactly 
eighteen hundred and sixteen years ago, and 
those wherein the remains of his father, one of 
his brothers, and four other members of his fam- 
ily, were deposited. 

Piso's monument is the largest of the seven. 
It is a rectangular dado of white marble measur- 
ing 3 feet 2 inches in height by 3 feet in width 
ai 71 2 feet 7 inches in thickness, standing on a 
molded plinth a foot in height, and surmounted 

by a pediment ornamented with pulvinars on the 
sides and griffins on the tympanum, the entire 
height being 5 feet 8 inches. The pediment is 
wrought — as are those of the other cippi — out of 
a separate block of marble, and forms in fact 
the lid, covering and concealing the cavity in 
the dado in which the vase containing the ashes 
was placed. On one side of the dado a sacrifi- 
cial vase is sculptured in relief, and on the other 
a paten. 'The inscription is cut on the sunk 
panel of the face in beautifully formed letters, 
almost uncial in character, and 2% inches in 
height. The other cippus measures from 3 feet 
6 inches to 3 feet 10 inches in height. That 
containing the ashes of Piso's father is orna- 
mented on the angles of the dado with satyrs' 
heads with rams' horns, from which hang fes- 
toons of fruit and flowers in high relief on the 
front and both sides, while on the back is a cir- 
cular wreath of laurel leaves. 

The third cippus, similar in ornamentation to 
Piso's, contained the ashes of his eldest brother. 
He had assumed, as he was fully entitled to do, 
the name of his mother's family, of which, 
through her, he was the only remaining repre- 
sentative. Caligula, however, prohibited him 
from bearing the cognomen of Magnus, but this 
distinction was restored to him oy Claudius, 
whose eldest daughter, Antonia, he married, and 
by whose order he was ultimately put to death 
at Messalina's desire. Seneca, in the Apoco- 
locynsosis, says satirically that Claudius restored 
him his name and cut off his head. Claudius 
sent him to announce his victory over Britain 
to the Senate, and, as the inscription shows, he 
held the offices of Tontifex and Questor. 

It is curious that some of the letters of the in- 
scription on Piso's monument — i. <•., the D with 
which the first line, and the L with which the 
second begins; the letters P O N in Pisonis, I< 
in Frugi, IN of Liciniani, the X Y at the begin- 
ning of the fourth line, and the R in Veranix 
have been obliterated with a pointed tool, as if a 
workman had begun to erase the inscription by 
cutting out some of the most important letters 
first. Can it be possible that an order memorial 
damnaiio had been issued against Piso by Otho 
on being told of the inscription placed on his 
monument, and that Otho's speedy death pre- 
vented the necessity for the erasure being com- 

Together with these cippi a* beautiful bronze 
statuette about two feet in height was standing 
in the tomb, but it was hidden by some of the 
workmen, and found its way, as was afterward 
ascertained, into the possession of a Russian 
collector, who paid o.ooof. for it, and sent it out 
of Rome at once. The sellers of antiquities ob- 
tained in this fashion have never time to haggle 
about prices, and one may well suppose, there- 
fore, that the statuette was worth at least four 
times what the thieves or the receiver got for it. 
But this was not all. When the owner of the 
property, Signor Maraini, who naturally enough, 
in trie circumstances, was somewhat tardily in- 
formed of the discovery, went down to see it, all 
the cippi had been opened, and the cinerary urns 
which were in them had all disappeared, except- 
ing one made of rare Oriental alanaster. It had 
also been opened and was empty. "Where," 
asked Signor Maraini, "are the ashes that were 
in these monuments?" "Ashes?" replied the 
man, as if astonished. " Yes, ashes," repeated 
Signor Maraini. "Well," he answered, "in 
truth there were ashes, and a great many of 
them, but I never dreamed that they were of the 
slightest importance, and, as they were white 
and clean, le ho raccoltc in una cesta, e le ho 
mandate al>a tnia mogiie per fare il bucato." 
("I gathered them together into a basket, and 
sent them to my wife, to make lye of for her 
washing.") And thus have the ashes of an Im- 
perial Casar, adopted by Galba as 'Tiberius was 
adopted by Augustus, and accepted by the 
Senate, been used in this year of grace, 1885, 
more than eighteen centuries after his death, by 
a Roman washerwoman to dense her dirty linen 
with, together with the ashes of other members 
of his family, in whose veins flowed the noble 
blood of the Crassi and of Pompey the Great. 
At such "base use" one cannot hut exclaim 
"Pah! "as Hamlet did when he put down the 
skull. — Corr. London Vimes. 


As a rapid and exhaustive observer woman 
outshines man more than the beauty and glory 
of day at high twelve surpasses the flicker of a 
brimstone match. With one little bat of her 
eye a woman can see things to which man, with 
all his boasted discernment, remains forever 
blind. The focusing machinery in the vision- 
ary department of nrr mechanism is always 
in gear, and operates with lightning 'precis- 
ion, without hitch or friction. Tut her in 
a cannon and shoot her through a millinery 
store, and if she survives the shock to her 
nerves, she can tell you with a precision that 
seems phenomenal, the exact shade of every rib- 
bon and the net amount of torture to non-posses- 
sors represented by every specimen of male dis- 
traction in the entire concern. Send her aloft 
in a balloon when the wind is careering over the 
city with the speed of a young man running 
through a hereditary fortune, and she can tell 
you the contents of every clothes-line in town, 
without stopping to catch her breath. Put her 
in a sleigh behind a runaway team, if you are 
obliged to know the color of every man's eyes 
on both sides of the street, and have to know it 
quick. If you are to have a fashion report in 
fifteen minutes that would take you three weeks 
to prepare, send the dear creature to church. 
If you want to know anything that can be seen, 
shut your eyes and tell your wife to look. With 
one corner of her eye she will sec more in the 
fragment of an instant than you could discern 
,in two weeks with a field-glass. For breadth, 
scope and accuracy, the amount of observation 
she can grasp with a single wink makes a govern- 
ment survey seem contracted and deficient. 
Professor Proctor himself owns up that his 
daughter can see and salt down more in the butt 
end of a second, without specs on, than he can 
behold with a telescope in a good long astro- 
nomical spell, and he always wants her handy 
during an eclipse or transit, to nail such phe- 
nomena as may happen to get away from him. 
Chicago ledger. 

Huxley, the British scientist, has celebrated 
his sixtieth birthday. 



The Mechanics' Pavilion 

ON THE EVENINGS OF HA1 S8th, -Ml.. 30th, JI NK is. and 2d 
AN© ON lllK AFTERNOONS OF HAT 30th ....,1 JUNE 3d 




Who will bring from New York his 

And the following Eminent Vocalists: 


MISS EMMA JUCH, Soprano \ 


MR. WILLIAM J. WINCH, re..or : 




COURT SINC-ER FROM THE IMPERIAL OPERA, VIENNA. (Especially engaged by Mr. Thomas for 

his Concerts in ban Francisco.) 

TWO SPECIAL CHORUSES of male and female voices are being trained under the direction of MR. 

PROFESSOR JOSEPH ROECKEL has prepared a selected chorus of voices, which will appear in the French 


Reserved srais. Single Concerts (According to Location $1 00, $2 00 $3 00 

Boa scats. Single Concert* (According to Location) %\ 00, $•> 00 

, t*}?^ S^fST^i, S . c . ats / or Single Concerts begins MONDAY, May 18th, at the Music Stores of M. GRAY 
and SHERMAN, CLAY & CO., at 9 a. m. 

SEYMOUR F. LOCKE, Manager Thomat Concerts, Occidental Hotel. 


Marccs M. Hei 

.Bi'sinkss Manager 




On Friday Evening and Saturday Matinee, 

May I .Mm ami 16th, IMS.., 

In aid of the funds of 


Mozart*> Elegant Chef-d Vuvre, 


Will be presented with a cast of Ladies and Oentlemen 

who have kindly volunteered their services. 
The Ensemble will number Over One Hundred. Large 

Chorus and Grand Orchestra. 
Conductor Klguor Enrico >ori;<' 

Boxes $10, $12.50, $15 and $jo. Reserved Seats, in 
Orchestra, Parquet and Dress Circle, $r. - 

The ticket office will be Opened at M. Gray's Music 
Store, 206 Post street, on Monday, May nth, at 9 a. ni., 
and continue daily until 5 p. ni. 


Sunday May 1711.. 



The ever-popular favorites, owing lo their enthusiastic 
reception at the Grand Opera House, have canceled a 
number of their engagements in the interior towns in or- 
der to give their 

And Positively Last Performance in San Francisco 

Saturday, May 10th, 



Hat Store on this Coast, 
332-336 KEARNY ST., 

Bet. Bush and Pine StB., San Francisco. 

Brand. 1312-1914 Market, abo\ <■ Taylor. 

Send for Illustrated Catalogue. Mailed free. 





Do not fail to see our well selected stock of 
New Spring and Summer Styles 

Mrs. W. F. De FORREST, 


No. 24 Kearny Street, San Francisco. 


AL. HAYMAN Lessee and Manager 

The Distinguished Comedian, 


Supported by Dion G Boucicault and Nina Boucicault, 
anil an Excellent Company, in 


Monday, May iSth, Mr. Houckaull's new 5-act Comedy, 


F. W. STECHHAN Manager 

An Instantaneous Hit. 


The Cheerful Comedian, in Gunter's successful Melo- 
dramatic Comedy, 




AL. HAYMAN Lessee and Manager 

Every Evening, excepting Sunday. 

Triumph of David Bclasco's Charming Comedy-Drama, 


As presented by the Madtsun Square Company. 


Eddy Street, Near Market. 
KRELING BROS Sole Proprietors and Manager* 

And until further notice, Strauss's Amusing Operetta, 


Admission els. Kosorvcd Scats 50 eta 


M. B. LEAVITT Lessee and Proprietor. 

C. P. HALL Manager. 

A Thousand Laughs in a Thousand Seconds, at 


Every Evening. 



S. W. cor. Mason and Eddy Sts. 
Open l.aily Iron. 0 A. to 11 I». M. 



Importing, Manufacturing and Dispensing 


Everything new, first-class; large assortment. Market 

and Stockton sts. Store always open. 



" Let us eat, drink, and be merry, for to-mor- 
row " we may not have a dollar and a half. It is 
presumable that some such bohemian sentiment 
actuates the crowd which, turning down Bush 
street every evening, divides into two diverging 
ranks at the entrance of the Standard and Bush 
Street theaters. 

Strictly Business, at the Standard, seems to 
be that kind of business that pays both dealer 
and consumer. If there is anything in the prom- 
ise implied in the adage, "Laugh and grow 
fat," he who visits the Standard ought to save 
the price of admission in his board bill, for this 
is the genuine and pervasive humor that evokes 
spontaneous laughter from all alike. The witty 
and the wise may find a deep vein ol amusement 
in the utter incongruousness of the humorous 
with the more serious thread of the play, while 
there is enough and to spare (though we would 
not be willing to spare it) of that broad uncom- 
promising fun pure and simple, that delights the 
more superficial. The cynic may laugh (" sar- 
donically " if he so pleases) at the grotesqueness 
of the weapons wherewith fate thwarts the best 
laid schemes; the philanthropist, that there is 
here and there in this workaday world an 
hour or two of innocent abandonment to mirth 
" that knits up the raveled sleave of care"; and 
everybody, because — he can't help it. Bishop is 
funny by the grace of nature, and when he adds 
to this the mental endowment which tells him 
how to be just as funny as he can, he is bound 
to keep the primmest mouth in the dress circle 
stretched to its utmost capacity. 

As to the performance at the Bush Street, 
we are among old acquaintances from the mo- 
ment the curtain rises on Peck's Bad Boy and 
his chum "Ma," the Groceryman, and the 
somewhat frisky old Peck pert, J. W, Grath, 
as " Max Schultz," the Groceryman, made, on 
Monday night, so decided a hit that the general 
applause was kept up by the all-conquering gal- 
lery boys till there was noevading the demanded 
"speech." This was short and pleasing, recall- 
ing kindly his visit to our city some thirteen 
years ago. " Pa " Peck, as represented by John 
H. Connor, was as giddy and good-natured an 
old boy as we have long known him to be. Mr. 
Williams was a good " Bad Boy," and kept his 
natural enemy, the Groceryman, in the proper 
state of bedevilment. All the characters were 
so represented as to make up the expected sum 
total of amusement. Miss Ada Boshell, as 
" Minnie Clay," the Bad Boy's "girl," was per- 
haps a little too realistic in regard to make-up. 
We all know the inevitable effect on feminine 
finery of a picnic; still it may not be amiss to 
suggest to Miss Ada to send her blue frock to 
the laundry, and trust to the popular imagina- 
tion to supply at least a part of the dirt and un- 
tidiness demanded by the picnickian unities. 
In mentioning the characters that enliven the 
Bush Street stage, it were invidious to leave out 
"Billy," the Butter. It is perhaps not claiming 
too much for this personation to say it is the 
most natural and lifelike in the cast. "Billy'' 
is withal a remarkably handsome fellow— as a 

When we assist at the lofty and dignified pre- 
sentations of Shakespearean plays and other 
dramatic classics, there is undoubtedly a mental 
exaltation that is equally satisfying to our intel- 
lectual taste, and to our egotism and self-com- 
placency. But on suddenly finding ourselves in 
an atmosphere of pure, healthy, childish fun and 
enjoyment, it is with the almost universal feel- 
ing, more or less frankly expressed, that there is 
indeed "a time to laugh," and that it can 
scarcely come too often to the relief of over- 
worked and overserious humanity. 

At the Baldwin the long-expected May Blos- 
som is in full bloom, with the pale, pretty tints 
and delicate aroma of the fields and woods that 
belong to that simple wayside flower. With all 
the excitement and the tragic sorrow of the 
heroine's life, it is the excitement and the tragedy 
of feeling rather than of action. Even the vil- 
lain is but a rustic deceiver whose treason is at 
most negative. There is doubtless in every 
life a dramatic element; but where this is purely 
subjective it is hardly susceptible of that sensa- 
tional treatment which an ordinary audience 
demands in the drama. Poor "May Blossom" 
lives a tragedy — the death of hope and love, and 
the birth of a new love amid pain and doubt; 
but nothing happens to her objectively. Her 
life's drama is carried on in her heart alone. 
This, while affording ample material for the 
romancer, has little for the dramatist to lay hold 
on. Yet Mr. Belasco has given an adequate 
stage setting to a touching and pathetic story. 

On coming from the play, one involuntarily 
falls to wondering what it would be in the hands 
of less competent performers, and the conclusion 
is inevitable that its author owes much to those 
who so skillfully bring into striking relief the 
somewhat neutral tints of character and situa- 
tion. It is indeed seldom in these days of 
traveling "combinations " that we have the 
pleasure of seeing the cast of characters, even 
down to the humblest and least important, so 
complete and efficient. This completeness is 
the foundation of the reputation enjoyed by the 
Madison Square Company. Miss Georgie Cay- 
van as " May Blossom " represents the changing , 
emotions of the part with sufficient strength and 

unfailing attractiveness. Mr. Ben Maginley 
gives us in " Sam Blossom " the one character 
that stands out among all the rest as a real man— 
a lovable, genial, tender-hearted soul, who will 
live in the memory of his audience as an actual 
existence rather than a stage creation. His 
smile alone is genius — for it never could have 
been learned— and goes straight to the heart. 
" Uncle Bartlett," Mr. Crompton, and "Aunt 
Deborah," Miss Annie Adams, supply a delight- 
ful comedy element with the quaint rustic flavor 
of a primitive "old Virginny " village where the 
" preacher" is of the people, yet set apart by his 
sacred otlice and attributed "book-learning." 
As to George Osbourne, he is, in the part of 
"Owen Hathaway," adding another to the nu- 
merous proofs he has lately afforded that his line 
lies all over the stage, and that it is difficult to 
place him where he cannot pick upthat wander- 
ing thread. "Richard Ashcroft " is well repre- 
sented by Forrest Robinson, "the short man 
with the tall voice." Miss Kate Chester takes the 
small part of " Millie " very nicely, and " Little 
May" is an exceptionally agreeable stage child. 
In "Eph," the negro imp, it is almost impossi- 
ble to realize the presence of J. N. Long, the 
erstwhile long-visaged Private Secretary. It is 
a little difficult to fully acquiesce in Mr. Belas- 
co's denouement, and cheerfully behold the trans- 
fer of "May's" affection to the husband who 
won her by fraud; but with Mr. Wheelock's 
"Steve Harland" it is simply impossible. His 
entire action and bearing may be characterized 
by one word, abject. His abjectness reaches a 
climax when he stand staring like a fish — appar- 
ently about as warm-blooded —while his wife 
rests in the arms of the returned " Richard " till 
the audience begin to feel uneasy, if "Steve" 
doesn't. When this abject being finally con- 
cludes to remind the reunited lovers of his exist- 
ence, some interested spectator near me heaved 
a sigh of intense relief, with the exclamation, 
"Well, I should think it's about time!" The 
scenery and stage setting are worthy of the play 
and the acting. Mr. Frohman finds in the full 
houses at the Baldwin the best proof of San 
Francisco's appreciation of his excellent com- 
pany, and the high character of the entertain- 
ment which he has brought us. 

The Shaughraun has been drawing rather poor 
houses at the California, owing doubtless to the 
many newer counter attractions. Next week 
The Jilt, Mr. Boucicault's new play, will un- 
doubtedly fill the house. 


At the Baldwin May Blossom will be contin- 
ued next week. 

Strictly Business will continue all next week 
at the Standard Theater. 

Dion Boucicault's new play, The /ill, will be 
produced next week at the California. 

The Battle of Waterloo, at the Panorama 
Building, corner Mason and Eddy, still attracts 
throngs of visitors from 9 a. m. to 1 1 p. m. 

Peck's Bad Boy continues at the Bush Street 
Theater next week, to be followed May 25th by 
Mile. Aimee in an English version of Mam'zelle. 

Go to Woodward's Sunday, May 17th, to see 
the Standard Minstrels. The performance is 
announced as their " farewell-forever " to Cali- 

The Tivoli continues its excellence perform- 
ance of Die Fledermaus, with the favorites, Miss 
Helene Dingeon and Miss Louise Leighton, in 
the cast. . . 

Mr. George Schmitt, of the Fountain, keeps 
up the attractive variety performance which 
renders that resort a pleasant place in which 
to while away an idle hour of an evening. 

At the Wigwam, Fryer's exhibition of won- 
derfully trained animals is varied by acrobatic 
and other performances, and by the remarkable 
feats in rifle shooting by Miss Lillian Smithy 

At the Baldwin, May 25th, will be produced 
the society comedy, Impulse, with the following 
names in the cast. Miss Gcogie Cayvan, Miss 
Adele Waters, Miss Annie Adams, Messrs. 
Crompton, Whcelock, Long and Lewis Mor- 

Joe Jefferson says that the first time he knew 
of the substitution on the stage of a property 
baby for the genuine crying and kicking article 
was in 1852, at Charleston. Mr. Jefferson's 
own first appearance on the stage was made at 
the age of eighteen months, with Edwin Forrest, 
in Pizarro. 

The operetta of Be-peep was very prettily ren- 
dered to a large and enthusiastic gathering at 
the Centennary Methodist Church, on Bush 

On Wednesday, May 13th, Miss Ellen Cour- 
sen, assisted by Miss Rose Coursen and several 
instrumental performers, under the direction of 
Professor Joseph Roeckel, gave a Rubinstein 

The Marriage of Figaro, by Signor Campo- 
bello's Operatic company, was given last even- 
ing at the Grand Opera House — too late for no- 
tice in this issue. Matinee performance to-day 
at two o'clock. 

An ambitious performance of Julius Casar by 
the pupils of Dr. Tarrant's Academy was ren- 
dered interesting by a first production in this 

city of Schumann's overture and entr'acte music, 
conducted by Edgar S. Kelley. 

The Boston Transcript says of the Thomas 
orchestra: " It goes on improving year by year. 
Heaven knows what it will not do ten years 
hence. There is now a certain impeccability 
about its playing that one has to get accustomed 
to, not to be filled every moment w ith fresh aston- 
ishment. Truly it takes Mr. Thomas— or the 
devil— to make men play like that." 

Mr. Otto Bendix will give an invitation piano 
recital, on the 26th instant, at Irving Hall. Mr. 
Bendix enjoys a very high reputation both as 
artist and teacher, having been for many years 
instructor at the Royal Conservatory in Copen- 
hagen, and more recently in the Conservatory 
of Music in Boston. Our city is developing a 
positive enthusiasm for music, and will learn 
with pleasure that this thorough musician pro- 
poses establishing himself permanently among 

Patti's farewell to America (?) took place 
where all great great literary and artistic events 
should — in Boston, and that coldly correct city 
was actually moved to demonstrative enthusi- 
asm. This surprise, aided perhaps by Colonel 
Mapleson's reference to the diva as "still in the 
bloom of youth," so aroused the excitable Ade- 
lina that, after kissing flowers and Arditi and 
everything in reach, and throwing handfuls of 
these sweet airy nothings to the audience, the 
supply was still unexhausted, and she rushed 
desperately to the manager's box and actually 
kissed Nevada over the rail! How delighted 
that waspish little linnet must have been. . Patti 
was in luck if it didn't bite her — if linnets can 

The sale of tickets for the Thomas concerts 
has so far demonstrated the almost universal 
interest which our citizens are taking in the 
approaching musical festival. Even the custom- 
ary hegira to the country, the seaside, or the 
springs, is postponed in anticipation of this 
event. Thoughtful people see in these perfectly 
organized and conducted concerts not only a 
transient delight, however exquisite, but a culti- 
vation in musical taste and knowledge whose 
influence will abide with us. There has never 
been a time in the history of our city when the 
musical feeling was so strongly developed as 
now, and these concerts will give impetus and 
direction to a taste that is always a pretty cer- 
tain gauge of the culture and refinement of a 

The musical association known as "Our 
Orchestra" has been reorganized under new 
and efficient leadership, and will give its first 
concert on Tuesday next, at Irving Hall. The 
orchestra, under the direction of Mr. J. H. 
Rosewald, has been faithfully rehearsing for the 
past six months, and the resulting improve- 
ment is conceded by all who have attended the 
rehearsals, to be a marked one. The programme 
offered for Tuesday is of a remarkably eclectic 
and cosmopolitan character, embracing com- 
positions of Conradi, Millard, Vieuxtemps, Jen- 
sen, Strauss, Pergolesi, and Haydn. An es- 
pecial feature is offered in two pieces by 
Taubert, for stringed instruments alone. The 
concert will be given by members of the organi- 
zation, without professional assistance. The 
musical public of San Francisco are looking 
forward to the concert of Tuesday night with 
much interest. Dorothy. 

Money cheap. Uncle Jacobs, 613 Pacific st. 

Take breakfast or lunch at Swain's, 213 Sutter. 

Drs. Darrin, magnetic physicians, 113 
Stockton street. Examination free. 

Delightful weather for ladies and children 
to visit the Park. Refreshments at the Casino. 

A. W. Myer repairs line and complicated 
watches and clocks, and warrants satisfaction. 
1014 Market street, opposite Fifth. 

Eye-Glasses and spectacles at pri ces to sui 
all. Muller the Optician, 135 Montgomery 
street, near Bush. 

Agents wanted for Tunison's New Atlas of 
Ihc United States and World. Call on or ad- 
dress H. C. Tunison, 359 Minna slrcet, S. F. 

Important i<> Every Lady, 

A great philosopher once said that the fount- 
ain of human happiness flows from health, com- 
fort and contentment. The body must be in a 
healthful and comfortable condition to attain 
true happiness. Nothing adds so much to a 
woman's health and comfort as a perfect-fitting 
corset. The corset surrounds the most vital 
parts of the body, and upon if greatly depends 
their healthful action. An ill-shaped corset 
throws the waist into an unnatural condition, 
and often seriously affects the heart and lungs. 
A well-shaped corset is constructed upon nat- 
ural and scientific principles, and always sup- 
ports and strengthens the frame. Most ladies, 
r>y sad experience with poor corsets, know the 
truth of these facts, and they now go direct to 
Freud's Corset House, Nos. 742 and744 Market 
street and 10 and 12 Dupont street, where they 
always get corsets that arc perfect fitting as well 
as health preserving. Freud corsets are recog- 
nized through America as the only corsets which 
accurately fit the form as well as add to health, 
and, so far as corsets are concerned, nobody is 
ever unhappy who wears Freud's perfect-fitting 

Tile Thomas l esllvul 4 <>ll< • 

The subscribers to boxes for the 
Festival, comprising a number of 
people, are, we understand, jierlecth 
with the allotment of boxes which took 
the Bank of California last Saturday, under the 
Supervision of a committee of the subscribers 
themselves, and resulted as follows : Box No. 14, 
Henry Wadsworth; 27, 1 . L. |ones; 13, |. Wal- 
ters; 50, W. S. Hobart; 43, David W. f.oring; 
10, M. II. Hecht; 41, J.C. Flood; 37, W.II.I . 
Barnes; 40, M. Gray; 47, 1.. Pickering; 20, Rob- 
ert A. McLean; 51 Jerome Lincoln; 4(1, W. 
Mayo Newhall ; 31, Mrs. Grecnewald; v\ A.l>. 
Moore; 23, Francis & Valentine; 48, J. I). Red- 
ding; 10, Asa R.Wells and M. Russell; 14, I. 
B. Ilaggin; 53, Timothy Hopkins; ; F. W. 
Sharon; 45, Joseph 0- Eastland: 28, Mrs, D.D. 
Colton; 21, Louis Sloss; 9, Charles Kohlerj 
29, W. E. Dean;' 24, lames Spiers; 37, 1 1. A. 
Chase; 25, William Alvord; 26, M. H. He 
Young: 30, Mrs. C. W. Crocker; 17, P. N. 
Lilicnthal; 22, lames G. Fair; 42, Genera] 
Houghton; 39, Thomas Price; 18, John Parrotl; 
15, P. B. Cornwall; 49, A. W. Sisson ; C4, W al- 
ter Turnbull and J. A. lohnson: 55, Sherman, 
Clay & Co.; 38, Charles'Webb Howard. 

At this writing, the programmes have not ar- 
rived, but they will undoubtedly be ready before 
the opening of the sale of seats for single con- 
certs, next Monday morning. The sales for the 
I season have already been very large, and indicate 
such a success for the festival as the extraordi- 
nary attractions offered ought to secure. The 
eastern papers are arriving with enthusiastic 
comments on the concerts given in New F.ngland, 
where the tour began, the splendid singing 01 
Mme. Fursch-Madi being especially admired. 
Of the singers who take part in the tour prior 
to their opening here, she is the principal, as 
Frau Materna is engaged only for San F"rancisco. 
The perfection of the orchestral work, now even 
more than before, is described as " wonderful "; 
and we may look for such a musical treat as San 
Francisco has never yet experienced. 


M. L. O. in a communication to the Boston 
Transcript, gives the following reasons why the 
accent of "arbutus" should l>e on the first syl- 
lable. She (for of course M. L. O. is a woman) 
writes : 

Now that our Plymouth friends arc sending 
us the Mayflower with their spring greetings 
let us see what a few American poets nave said 
about it under its other name of arbutus. No, 
let us hear what they say, and listen with a pur- 
pose : 

"A year ago, in the sweet spring weather, 
We sought the trailing arbutus together." 

M. E. Songster. 

"Whisper on, glad girls and boys; 

Sealed the fragrant rosy wells; 
You and spring are safe alike — 

Never the arbutus tells!" 

//. //. 

"But fairer than all flowers, 

First-born of sun and showers, 

Is the arbutus, jewel of the spring." 

C. H. Burleigh. 

"The wild arbutus, flushed wifh ha^te, 
Trails close, to make appeal." 

Lucy Larcom. 

I could give a dozen more examples, but the 
sound for which we are listening would be the 
same in all. 

Now let us hear some English poets. The 
plant that they mean is a large shrub, but it is 
the name only that we are concerned with: 

"Over which you saw 

The irregular line of elms by the deep lane 
Which stopped the grounds and dammed the 

Of arbutus and laurel." 

E. //. Browning. 

"Glowing bright, 
Beneath, the various foliage wildly spreads 
The arbutus, and rears his scarlet fruit." 


And finally, O Transcript! representative of 
classic Boston, listen to Virgil: 
Mxnalcas speaks — 

"DuUe satis humor, depulsis arbutis h,rdis." 
and "arbutus" is what he said. Now why, O 
Transcript! do so many Americans thus fly in 
the face of Rome and England and the diction- 
aries? Webster gave arf/dus in the early edi- 
tions, but by 1873 nad learned better and changed 
to arbutus. It is not all Americans who are 
thus careless of their accent ; there are some 
who would no more say "ariwtus" than Ihey 
would talk of "laylocs"and "pinies." May 
their tribe increase! 

Singers love newspaper critics very dearly, 
and make it a rule to re|x-at in their presence 
what they say behind their backs. Two famous 
artists were standing on Broadway the other 
morning, tearing out their hair over a criticism 
which had appeared in one of the daily papers, 
in which Ihey had been likened to a pair of bray- 
ing jackasses. 

"Alio caro!" shouted the tenor, the hairs of 
whose mustache stood up like so many pike- 
staffs; "do you efcr read somesing like-a sat? 

"Dot loafer vas so trunk lesf Did©," growled 
the baritone, carving the air in his fury, " /at he 
don' vas apl' to saw ze stage. He don't know 
no more aboud ze moosic of zc gr-rand mastaire 
tan zc horse-car ! " 

" Eef I efcr see zat fel'," exclaimed the bari- 
tone, " I vill smesh ze nose in his face I " 

lust then the critic came along, and the worthy 
melody murderers hastened toward him with 
outstretched arms. 

" Mio ! mio ! " exclaimed the tenor, " how veil 
you lookin' zis mornin', mcestair. Vc vas yoost 
talkin' aboud ze mos' peautiful-a noteece in ze 
papair. You vas so kind. Grazia, grazia, mio 
caro ! " 

" Eef I could write a likc-a zat, I vould no 
more sing-a," said the baritone. 

Then they hurried away and pledged each 
other in Apollinaris water,— New York Journal. 



The present month is filled with reminiscences of the 
final scenes in the Civil War. If April is associated with 
the lamentable outbreak of open hostilities, it is yet re- 
deemed by the record of events that led to the close of 
the long strife. Were it necessary, however, to select a 
date for celebrating the twentieth anniversary of the exact 
termination of the struggle, the task might be puzzling. 
It is certain that there would be a widespread difference 
of opinion as to what day should be chosen for that pur- 

Richmond, the Confederate capital, was captured and 
occupied by the Union forces on the morning of April 
3, 1865, its garrison having abandoned it during the night 
preceding. Hostilities, however, went on with vigor in 
Virginia, as well as elsewhere, until April gth, when the 
Army of Northern Virginia surrendered at Appomattox. 
But that date does not mark the end of the war. The 
week following was a busy and sanguinary one in many 
quarters. On that same 9th of April Canby, whose army 
with the aid of the fleet had been investing the de- 
fenses at Mobile, captured Spanish Fort and its depen- 
dencies, with many guns and several hundred prisoners. 
Before night Fort Blake ley was carried by assault, with 
twenty guns and two thousand four hundred prisoners. 
A few days later Mobile was evacuated, and on the 14th 
Granger's forces occupied the city. The Union loss in 
these operations at Mobile was about two thousand five 
hundred men killed and wounded, besides five or six ves- 
sels, which were blown up by torpedoes. 

Stoneman was meanwhile carrying on vigorous opera- 
tions in a portion of North Carolina. On the 12th of 
April, three days after Lee's surrender, he attacked the 
enemy's lines around Salisbury, capturing fourteen pieces 
of artillery and more than one thousand one hundred 

grisoners, together with great stores of ammunition, army 
lankets, clothing, bacon, salt, rice, wheat, and cotton. 
Thence he moved to Slatersville, destroying railroad track 
and bridges. 

Wilson, with a cavalry force of great magnitude, was 
continuing during this same period his memorabte opera- 
tions in Alabama and Georgia. After his capture of 
Selma, on the 2nd of April, he had moved eastward, 
occupying Montgomery and all prominent points on the 
road to Macon. On the 16th of April, in the last combat 
of the war east of the Mississippi, he carried Columbus 
and West Point; and on the 21st of April Macon sur- 
rendered, with threescore field pieces and ten or twelve 
thousand Georgia militia. 

Sherman's march to Raleigh was begun as late as 
April 10th ; and on the evening of the 12th Kilpatrick was 
fighting Wade Hampton's rear guard, while Raleigh was 
reached and entered on the 13th. Negotiations for John- 
ston's surrender were next begun, and the first memoran- 
dum for that purpose, made near Durham Station, was 
dated April 18th. This, however, was rejected by Presi- 
dent Lincoln, and the final agreement was signed on the 
26th. As late as April 23d the Sixth Corps was put on 
the march for Danville, in order to cut off the possibility 
of Johnston's escape, and General Sheridan's cavalry 
were engaged in the same occupation. Between the 19th 
and 22d there were military expeditions in Tennessee. 

But even the surrender of Johnston's army left many 
Confederate forces in the field, and it was clearly possible 
for these to carry on guerrilla operations, or even to pro- 
long regular warfare for a time west of the Mississippi. 
The troops of General Jeff Thompson did not surrender 
untii May nth, and the actual assembling and paroling 
of his men took place May 25th, at Wittsburgh, on the St. 
Francis river, and June 5th at Jacksonport, on the 
White. The entire force parade numbered 7,454 officers 
and men. The surrender of Lieutenant General Richard 
Taylor's much larger army was made at Citronelle, in 
Alabama, on the 4th day of May. The surrender of 
Commodore Farrand's squadron of twelve Confederate 
vessels in the Tombigbee river, with their officers and 
men, was agreed upon at the same time, and took place 
on May gth. The following day General McCook, of 
Wilson s corps, received at Tallahassee the surrender of 
Jones's Florida forces, 8,000 strong. 

Meanwhile there had been threats of very serious resist- 
ance by some of the trans-Mississippi forces, which 
expected to be joined by Jefferson Davis, then a fugitive 
in Georgia. The unremitting search for Davis kept 
Wilson's forces busy throughout the earlier part of May, 
and until his capture at Irwinsville on the 10th. Long 
before this event General Rirby Smith, at Shreveport, in 
Louisiana, had issued an order to his army announcing 
Lee's surrender and his own purpose to carry on the war 
beyond the Mississippi. On the 24th of April General 
Magruder, at Houston, addressed a great war meeting to 
the same effect. On the 27th Hardeman's brigade, at In- 
dependence, pledged themselves to continue the war to 
the bitter end. On the 2d of May Parson's brigade 
adopted similar resolutions in Robertson county, Texas. 
On the 8th of May the citizens of Fort Bend county 
resolved that " in no event will we ever consent to recon- 
struction," and proposed that 30,000 recruits should be 
added to the forces of Smith and Magruder. These are 
examples, to which others might be added, of the hostile 
feeling prevailing at that time in Arkansas and Texas. 

On the 13th of May a body of Union troops under 
Colonel Barrett had a sharp skirmish at Palmetto ranch, 
about fifteen miles above Brazos, in Texas. The Con- 
federates, under command of General Slaughter, aided by 
Colonel Ford's cavalry and three field pieces, drove 
back Barrett's command toward Brazos, with a reported 
Union loss of about seventy or eighty in killed, wounded, 
and missing. Thus the last combat of the war, some- 
what curiously, goes into the record as a Confederate 
success. However, in spite of all the threats and pledges 
to carry on the struggle in Texas, wiser counsels prevailed, 
and on the 26th day of May Kirby Smith, through his 
chief of staff, Lieutenant General Buckner, surrendered 
his entire army to Canby. 

These historical reminiscences show the difficulty of 

fixing upon any specific day as marking the end of the 
war. The difficulty is increased by the gradual pro- 
cess of reduction in the Union armies, a process extend- 
I ing far beyond the times when the last Confederate 
troops were assembled for parole ; but a greater construct- 
ive extension of the war period was furnished by the 
various agreements and statutes of the government, each 
depending upon such indefinite phrases as "the duration 
of hostilities." With the downfall of the Confederate 
government the Southern States acted independently of 
each other, and a process of military occupation and 
political reconstruction was undertaken in each of them. 
In a war between two nations a treaty of peace often fur- 
nishes the historical date for the conclusion of hostilities; 
but there was no treaty-making power at the South. By 
degrees Congressional legislation began to refer to the 
war as a thing of the past, in such phrases as " the late 
insurrection "; yet more than a year passed after the last 
Confederate troops disbanded before the formal official 
announcement that this insurrection was over. At length 
such a proclamation was made by President lohnson, 
and thereafter the judicial tribunals fixed upon that 
announcement as the true legal date of the end of the 
war. Thus the Adjutant General's Office, in a letter to 
General Carleton of February 24, 1883, uses this expres- 
sion: "The Supreme Court of the United States has 
decided that the War of the Rebellion closed on August 
20, 1866, the date on which the President issued his 
proclamation declaring the insurrection at an end." And 
only two or three months ago Secretary Lincoln, referring 
to the same subject, reminded the Senate Committee on 
Military Affairs that "the Supreme Court of the United 
States, in the case of the Protector, 12 Wall., 700, held 
that the war ended in all the United States, except 
Texas, on April 2, 1866, and in Texas on August 20, 

These citations form perhaps as convenient and terse a 
method as any of presenting the fact that, for legal pur- 
poses, the Civil War is interpreted as a five years conflict. 
So far, however, as actual hostilities are concerned, they 
were all over before the 1st of June, 1865. — Neiv York 


No bain' in the house, I know! 

'l is far too nice and clean. 
No toys, by careless fingers strewn, 

Upon the floors are seen ; 
No finger-marks are on the panes, 

No scratches on the chairs; 
No wooden men set up in rows, 

Or marshaled oft in pairs; 
No little stockings to be darned, 

All ragged at the toes; 
No pile oT mending to be done, 

Made up of baby-clothes; 
No little troubles to be soothed; 

No little hands to fold; 
No grimy fingers to be washed; 

No stories to be told ; 
No tender kisses to be given ; 

No nicknames, " Dove," and " Mouse "; 
No merry frolics after tea — 

No baby in the house! 

Clara C. Dolliver. 


Her face was like the face of latter spring; 

Her fresh cool body.'s gracious flowering 

With bmls of only twelve green summers bloomed; 

Hut when the martyrs were to tortures doomed, 

They brought her forth unto the pagan shrine, 

To offer sacrifice with tire and wine. 

And when they led her to the altar there, 

She seemed so small before it, and so fair, 

That many pitied her, and would have saved 

And bore her homeward, though the great gods raved 

There, in the temple, at the impious deed; 

For she was straight and slender, like a reed, 

With long, smooth hair of gold, looped up and bound, 

With light lips like the rims of vases round. 

And sloping cheeks, and delicate, deep eyes. 

And when the incense smoke began to rise 

Above the swinging urn, whose triple chain 

She held, she saw tne gathering vapor-veins 

Obscure the altar and the walls. And there 

She saw the face of Christ, and then, soft prayer 

Being in her lips, the censer lost her care; 

Its cup of polished brass, with carven bands 

Of leaves and flowers, fell from her loosened hands, 

And spilled its coals across the marble floor. 

Remembering then what she had learned before, 

She touched ner forehead and her beating breast, 

And either shoulder, and herself she blest. 

Then discontented murmurs swelled around. 

And one gave orders that she should be bound. 

O marvelous sweet maiden, standing there — 

With thin, close lips, and smooth and shining hair, 

I. ike some mute Dryad — prayer and praise we render; 

Professor of the Faith, and its defender; 

More than all learned men from then till now, 

Even more than warrior Charlemagne, wast thou! 

They bound the bracelets on her arms, but they 

Were lar too large, and on her would not stay; 

Which seeing, some of those around her wept, 

And fain would have her from the torture kept. 

Half insane with much blood and careless lust, 

The judge gave orders that she should be thrust 

Before the people naked; and she blushed, 

But kept stern lips, and said, when all was hushed, 

And ere they stripped her, "Christ will guard his own." 

And when she to tne populace was shown, 

The people, having little love for kings, 

N ursine revolt, and hiding bitter things 

Within their hearts forever, would not look. 

But one rude fellow— from the dunghills shook 

Perhaps, or by the gutters floated down 

That drain the poisons of the middle town — 

One of those craven creatures who have been 

The strength of tyrants always, even then 

Did turn his eyes upon her, when a light 

Flamed quickfy on nim, blasting all his sight. 

Then she was offered many pleasant things — 

Luxurious couches and bright marriage rings; 

But she refused them all, and so she died. 

May we behold her yet who here abide ! 

The Catholic World, 


A recent contest between several sketch artists resulted 
in a draw. 

There are two things in this world nobody is ever pre- 
pared for: Twins. 

j The superfluous " j " in Pendjeh may be the cause of 
, the Afghanistan row. 

Some people who buy on time don't appear to know 
1 when time leaves off and eternity begins. 

I One reason that money matters are tight in this country 
is that we spend ten million dollars annually for corsets. 

Russian General Komaroff is bald-headed. It was im- 
| possible to keep him from pushing to the front in the 
theater of war. 

You may speak as you will of pedigree generally, but 
in a sleeping-car it is a man's berth which raises him 
above his fellows. 

Ordinary astronomy teaches us the the theory of spots 
on the sun, but Boston astronomy teaches the theory of 
I specs on the daughter. 

A Brooklyn undertaker has a sign " No misfits," prom- 
inently displayed in his window. None of his patrons 
t have ever complained of misfits. 

Cleveland did the best he could toward satisfying the 
army of Kentucky office seekers when he appointed a 
Gross to fill one office, the United States Marshalship. 

" I now see what I have to be thankful for," remarked 
a bald-headed man, as he looked through a basement 
window and saw the woman of the house arguing with 
her husband by the handful. 

When Mr. Gladstone read Tennyson's late poem in the 
London Times, it is reported that he went immediately 
and purchased a large-sized waste basket, which he sent 
to the poetry editor with private instructions., 

Office Seeker. I have here a petition, Mr. President. 
President. Ah, very glad to hear it. 
Office Seeker. And I would like to present it to you. 
President. I am very much obliged, but I am not re- 
ceiving any presents. Good morning. 

There is a time to laugh and a time to sing, and a time 
to be merry and a time to weep; but there is no time in 
this wide, wide world to button a brand-new, fourply 
linen collar on a celluloid collar-button without wishing 
that some one had invented a few words of heavy caliber 
to fill a long-felt want. 

The Supreme Court of Pennsylvania has decided that 
unless persons look both ways in crossing a railroad track 
they cannot obtain damages for injuries tney may receive. 
This gives cross-eyed people a decided advantage over 
those who can see straight, and in some measure mitigates 
the affliction of being cross-eyed. Life is full of com- 

An old farmer from Tazewell county came aboard a 
Chicago and Alton train the other day, and happened to 
step into the chair car. " Now this beats 'em all," he re- 
marked, as he looked about him in astonishment. " I've 
heerd tell onsleepin' cars and feedin' cars and them high- 
toned fixin's, but this is the first time I ever sot eyes on a 
shavin' car. Say, young feller, where's the barber? I'm 
goin' up to Chicago to see my darter Jane, and I believe 
I'll git my ha'r cut." 

A natural curiosity in the form of a chicken which had 
neither ears, eyes nor nose is mentioned in a Georgia 
paper as having died recently. We don't see the neces- 
sity for eyes, ears or nose in a chicken. It doesn't need 
those faculties in order to lay eggs or hatch them out. 
For setting purposes, a blind hen is as good as any other. 
Another additional advantage is that a blind hen cannot 
find your flower-garden, to scratch it up. We regret that 
the Georgia hen did not live long enough to perpetuate 
her species. 

A certain Turk, according to Mr. Frank R. Stockton, 
was once married to a vailed lady in white in the presence 
of the Sultan. As soon as the ceremony was concluded 
the bride mysteriously disappeared. The groom was led 
into an adjoining room, where stood twelve ladies, all 
dressed in white, but without vails. " Choose from the 
twelve," exclaimed the sovereign, " her that is your 
bride." As the man had never seen her face, the com- 
mand bewildered him. " If you make a mistake," 
added his Majesty, " your life shall pay the forfeit. The 
poor fellow walked up and down the row of beauties, but 
saw nothing whatever to aid his choice. " You have only 
a minute left," yelled the Sultan, in anger; "choose at 
once." Two of the ladies, he noticed, gave him some- 
thing else than a stony stare. One of them frowned; 
the other smiled. " The frowning one," he thought, " is 
my bride, for she expresses her displeasure and impatience 
at my ignorance. No," he said to himself; " it must be 
the smiling one, for she desires to invite me to her." 
After debating the subject in his mind until his time was 
up, he boldly made a selection from the two. He was 
successful. He had regained his bride. Which was she, 
the one who frowned or the one who smiled? The answer 
to the question Mr. Stockton leaves in impenetrable 

It now appears that Thomas Jefferson was so accom- 
plished a naturalist that the great Buffon said to him on 
one occasion, " I should have consulted you, sir, before 
publishing my Natural History, and then I should have 
Been sure of my facts." 

General Grant's salary as retired General of the army 
is paid to him monthly in installments of $1125 each. It 
dates from March 3, 1885, and is sent by the army pay- 
master in New York. 




Give us a rest on the old, old jokes, 

And let us have something new; 
Let up on the plumber and mother-in-law, 

And the flirting policeman— do! 

Let us hear no more of the brainless dude, 
Or the girl who devours ice-cream ; 

And put the husband who stays out late 
In his little bed to dream. 

Is there reason or rhyme that the Vassar girl 

Should worry the editor so? 
And the squibs on the size of Chicago's shoes 

Grew stale, ah, long, long ago. 

Set Oscar Wilde on the ice to cool, 

He is too, too overdone; 
And give us a rest on these worn-out jokes, 

We decline to consider them fun. 

YeiiOiiiinc's Sunday News. 

And we might add, oh, would-be wits, 

If it is not already too late, 
That many a life might be prolonged 

If you'd let up on the roller skate. 

The four winning pictures in the prize fund 
exhibition of the American Art Association, at 
New York, are R. Swain Gilford's "Near the 
Coast," Alexander Harrison's "Crepuscle," 
Henry Mosler's "Last Sacrament," and Frank 
M. Boggs's "Oft Honfleur." There will un- 
doubtedly be some surprise that Mr. Harrison's 
marine does not stand at the head of the list, 
even with the rivalry of Mr. Clifford. The sense 
of illimitable expanse and of deep-sea color and 
feeling are brought out wonderfully in the "Cre- 
puscle," and it will be a prize indeed to the city 
which receives it. By the terms of the subscrip- 
tion fund, a picture will be placed in the New 
York Metropolitan Museum, the Boston Museum 
ot Fine Arts, and the Polytechnic Society of 
Louisville. The mode of distribution and the 
name of the city securing the fourth painting 
are not stated, we believe. — Springfield Repub- 

Honorable Leroy D. Thoman, a member of the 
Civil Service Commission, discusses in The 
United Service, for April, the present civil 
service law, and the following reference to its 
scope will, perhaps, serve to correct some erro- 
neous impressions in the popular mind regarding 
it, and may give new hope to the yearners after 
office under the present administration : "The 
civil service law in no manner abridges the 
power of removal. It relates to entrance into 
the service. It has no provisions relating to 
exits or ejections from it. The appointees, 
before and since its enactment, have had neither 
term nor tenure of office. The original consti- 
tutional tenure of 'during good behavior' has 
never been extended to the subordinate places 
now controlled by the Pendleton Act. The 
notion prevalent to some extent that this law 
establishes an indefinite tenure is erroneous." 

Though nature is constantly beautiful she 
does not exhibit her highest powers of beauty 
constantly, for then they would satiate us and 
pall upon the senses. Her finest touches are 
things which must be waited for; her most per- 
fect passages of beauty are the most evanescent. 
•She is constantly doing something beautiful for 
us, but it is something she has not done before 
and will not do again ; some exhibition of her 
general powers in particular circumstances, 
which, if we do not catch at the instant it is 
passing, will not be repeated for us. 


San Francisco ami New York. 


91 Michigan Avenue; ^4 Bishopgate street, within ; 


Agent. Agent. 
FlaveTs Wharf and Warehouse ; 
Samuel Elmoke, Agent. 

We have our brokers in every commercial city of im- 
portance in the Western, Middle and Eastern States, and 
employ a large staff of traveling salesmen. We have the 
best facilities for the distribution of California products 
East, and give especial attention to California wines and 
brandies, salmon in barrels, dried fruit, lima and small 
white beans, canned salmon, canned goods, raisins, 
oranges, barley and other products. 


'I lir Koa<W to the World- famed California 
CJeyners are In Excellent Condition. 


Sew Cottage** nn<l Ample Hotel and Hatli- 
ing Accommodation** Offer I'leavure 
and Kepoite to the Visitor. 

For particulars inquire at Tourists' Office, Palace Ho- 
tel, No. 613 Market street, or at the office of San Fran- 
cisco and North Pacific Railroad, 430 Montgomery 
itreet. WM. FORSYTH, Proprietor. 

m WARNER'S -m 






H. H. WARNER & CO., Rochester, N. Y. 



f l.OO A. BOTTLE. 

II. H. WARNER A CO., Rochester, >. Y. 

REV. W. St BRATHWAITE, Re.l Bank, N. J , was 
cured of dyspepsia and other stomach disorders by War- 
ner's TIPPECANOE, The Best. 




H. H. WARNER A CO., Rochester, W. ¥. 

HON. D. D. S. BROWN, Rochester, N. Y , used 
Warner's TIPPECANOE, The Best, for stomach de- 
rangements, and was astonished at the good it did him. 





Steamers leave Wharf, corner First and Brannan streets, 
at 2 o'clock, p. m., for 

Connecting at Yokohama with steamers for Shanghae. 

Steamer. From San Francisco. 




EXCURSION TICKETS to Yokohama and return 
at reduced rates. 

Cabin plans on exhibition and Passage Tickets on sale 
at C. P. R. Company's General Office, Room 74, corner 
Fourth and Townsend streets. 

For freight apply to GEO. H. RICE, Freight Agent; 
at Pacific Mail Steamship Company's wharf, or to No. 
202 Market street (Union Block). 

T. H. GOODMAN, Gen'l Passenger Agent. 




The splendid new 3,000-ton Steamships will leave the 
Company's Wharf, corner of Steuart and Harrison streets : 



AT 3 F. M. 

EXCURSION TICKETS at reduced rates. 
For further particulars apply to 

J. D. SPRECKELS & BROS., Agents, 
337 Market street. 


Office 32 7 Market Street 

Refinery Potrero 


J. D. SPRECKELS Vice President 

A. B. SPRECKELS Secretary 


Paid-up Capital $3,000,000 In Gold 

Jambs C. Flood, President; 

Gro. L. Bkandrr, Vice-President; 
R. H. Foi-lis, Jamhs L. Flood, John W. Mackav. 

J. S. Angus, Secretary and Cashier; 

Gro. Grant, Assistant Cashier; 

New York Agency, 6a Wall Street. 

London Correspondents, Union Bank of London LrnM 




No. 13 Kearny Street, 
Between Post and Geary, San Francisco. 

Watches and Jewelry Repaired and Warranted. 






3.8. 00 a. 
8.00 a. 
I4.00 p. 
7.30 a. 
7 . 30 a . 
'3.30 p. 

8.00 a. 
4.00 p. 

ts-oo p. 

8.00 a. 
18. 00 a. 

3 30 P- 

7.00 p. 
10.00 a. 

3.00 p. 

7.00 p. 

7 . 30 a . 

8.uo a. 

7 30 a- 

3.00 p. 

4.00 p. 
(4.00 p. 

8.00 a. 
3.10.00 a. 

3.00 p. 

8 .00 a. 
1 9 . 30 a . 
(3.30 p. 
1 9 . 30 a . 

From April «, 18K1. 

. Byron 

■ Calistoga and Napa. . 


.Delta. Redding and Portland. 

■ Gait via Martinez 

. lone via Livcrmore 

. Knight's Landing 

. Livermorc and Pleasanton. . . . 

. Martinez 

. Milton 

Mojave, Dcming, (Express.. 

El Paso and East i Emigrant. 
.Nilesand Haywards 

Ogdcn and East I Express 

" " 11 \ Emigrant . . 

.Red Bluff via MarysviTlc 

. Sacramento, via Livermorc . . . 

11 via Bcnicia 

11 via Benicia 

11 via Benicia 

. Sacramento River Steamers . . 
. San Jose 

-Stockton, via 

** via Martinez. . 

11 via Martinez. . 
.Tulare and Fresno 


. .36. IO p 

. t 10. 10 a 

. . .6. 10 p 

...5.40 p 

. t 10. 40 a 

. . 10. 10 a 
. .18. 40 a 

6. 10 p 

..t 7 .iop 
. . .6. 10 a 
. . . 1 1 . 10 a 
. . .5.40 p 
. ..6.40P 
. . . 11 . 10 a 
. . .10. 10 a 
, . . 16. 00 a 
• .'3.40 p 
...t 7 .iop 
. . t 10.40 a 
■■ t7-iop 

a for morning. 

p for afternoon. 


From "SAKi FKAM IS< O " I»ally. 

TO EAST OAKLAND— *6.oo. *6.3o, 7.00, 7.30, 
8.30, 900, 9.30, 10.00, 10.30, 11.00, 11 30, 12.00, 

l.OO, I.30, 2 OO, 2.3O, 3.OO, 3.3O, 4.OO, 4.3O, 5.00, 
6.O0, 6.3O, 7-00, 8.00, 9.OO, lO.OO, II.OO, *I2.00. 

TO FRUIT VALE-*6.oo, *6.3o, '700, '7.30, 
•8.30, *3-3o, *4 00, '4.30, *5-oo, *5.30, *6.oo, *6.30 

TO FRUIT VALE (via Alameda)— '9.30, 6.30, t 
* 1 2.00. 

TO ALAMEDA — *6.oo, *6.3o, 7.00, * 7 .3o, 8.00, 
9.00, 9.30, 10.00, { 10,30, 11.00, t n.30, 12.00, t 
1.00, ti.30, 2.00, 3.00, 3.30, 4.00, 4.30, 5.00, 5.30, 

6.3O, 7.OO, 8.OO, 9.00, IO.OO, II.OO, *I2.00. 

TO BERKELEY— *6. 00, •6.30, 7.00, '7.30, S.oo, 

9.00, to. jo, 10.00, fio. 30, II.OO, Dl. 30, 12.00, l.OO, 
3.00, 4.00, 4.30, 5.00, 5.30, 6.00, 6.30, 7.00, 8.00, 

IO.OO, II.OO, *12.00. 

TO WEST BERKELEY-*6.oo,«6.3o,7 oo,* 7 .3o, 
*8.30, 9.00, 10.00, 11.00, 1 1 .00, 3. 00, 3.00, 4.00, 
5.00, *5-30, 6.00, *6.30, 7.00. 






FROM FRUIT VALE — '6.23, '6.53. '7.23, '7.53, *8.2 3 . 

'8.53, '9.23, *, '4.23, *4-53i *5-23i *S-53i '6.23, 

•6.53, 7.25, 9.50. 
FROM FRUIT VALE (via Alameda)— '5.15, '5. 45, 

J6.45, to. 15, •3.15. 
FROM EAST OAKLAND-* 5 .3o, *6.oo, 6.30, 7.00, 

7.30, 8.00, 8.30, 9.00, 9.30, 10.00, 10.30, 11.00, 11.30, 

12.00, 12.30, 1.00, 1.30, 2.00, 2.30, 3.00, 3.30, 4.00, 4.30, 

5.00, 5.30, 6.00, 6.30, 7.00, 7.57, 8.57, 9.57, 10.57. 

FROM BROADWAY (Oakland)— *5.37, *6 07, 6.37, 
7'°7i 7-37» 8.07, 8.37, 9.07, 9.37, 10.07, io-37» 11.07, 
11.37, 12.07, 12-37. 1-07. 1-37. 3 07, 2.37, 3.07, 3-37.4-07, 
4.37, 5.07, 5.37, 6.07, 6.37, 7.07, 8.06, 9.06, 10.06, 11.06. 

FROM ALAMEDA— (5.22, t 5 . 5 2, t6.22, 6.52, (7.22, 
7.52,18.22,8.52,9.22,9.52^10.22, 10.52, tii-22, 11.52, 
ti2.22, 12.52, ti.22, 1.52, 2.52, 3.22, 3.52, 4.22, 4.52, 
5.22, 5.52, 6.22, 6.52, 7.52, 8.52, 9.52. 10.52. 

FROM BERKELEY— 1 5 . 15, t5 45, t6.i 5 , 6.45, t-.< 5 , 
7.45, t8.i5, 8.45, tg.zsp 9-45. D0.15, '0.45, 11. 15, 11.45, 
12.45, »-45. 2.45, 3.45, 4-15. 4-45. 5-'5. 5-45. 6-15. 6.45, 
7-45. 8.45, 9.45, 10.45. 

FROM WEST BERKELEY — (5.45, t6.i 5 , 6.45, (7.15, 
7.45, 8.45, tg.15, 9.45, 10.45, tl2-45. "-45. »-45. 3-45. 
4-45. '5-15- 5-45. '6-15. 6.45. '7-»S- 


FROM SAN FRANCISCO— 1 7 . 15, 9.15, 11. 15, 1.15, 
3-'5> 5.I5- 

FROM OAKLAND— (6.15, 8.1(5, 10.15, "-«5. 3.15, 4.15. 
* or t Sundays excepted. t Sundays only. 

Pacific Standard Time furnished by Randolph & Co., 
101 Montgomery street, San Francisco. 


Gen. Manager. 

1. H. 4.KOKM \ \ 

Gen. Pass. & Tkt. Agt. 


Passenger Trains leave station, foot of Market street 
(south side), at 

8 0 s~\ A. M., daily, Alvarado, Newark, Center- 
. ville, Alviso, Santa Clara, SAN JOSE, Los 

Gatos, Wrights, Glenwood, Felton, Big Trees, SANTA 
CRUZ and all Way Stations. 

2r) s~\ P. M. (except Sunday), Express; Ml. 
• Kden, Alvarado, Newark, Centerville, Al- 

viso, Agnews, Santa Clara, SAN JOSE, Los Gatos, and 
all Stations to SANTA CRUZ. 

^7 qrj P. M., daily, for SAN JOSE, Los Gatos, 

• * and intermediate points. 

O DER CREEK, and $2 50 to SAN JOSE, on 
Saturdays and Sundays, to return on Monday, inclusive. 

A. M. t every Sunday, Excursion to SAN 

DER CREEK, and return. 

$1 75 to SANTA CLARA and SAN JOSE, and re- 

All through trains connect at Fclton for Boulder Creek 
and points 011 Kelton and 1'ckcadcro Railroad. 


36. oo, 9.6.30, i?7.oo, 7-3°i 8.00, 8.30, 0.00, 9.30, 10.00, 
10.30, 11.00, 11.30 A. M. *ji».oo, 12.30, ^Ti.oo, 1.30,^2.00, 
2.30, 3.00, 3.30, 4.00, 4.30, 5.00, 5.30, 6.00, 6.30,7.00,7.30, 
8.30, 9.30, 10.45, 11.45 1'. M. 

OAKLAND — 85.30, 86.00, 86.30, 7-oo. 7-3°. 8.00, 8.30, 
3.00,9.30, 10.00, 10.30.5f 1 1. 00, 11.30 A. M.; 5Ii2.oo, 12.30, 
Ifi.oo, 1.30, 2.00, 2.30, 3.00, 3.30, 4.00, 4*30i 5'°°> 5*3°» 
6.00, 6.30,7.00, 7.30, 8.30, 0.30, 10.45, M -45 !*• M . 

From HIGH STREET, ALAMEDA— 35.16, 55.46, 
36.16, 6.46, 7.16, 7.46, 8.16, 8.46, 9.16, 9.46, 10.16, 51 10.46, 
it. 16, 51 it -46 A. M. 12.16, 5)12.46, 1. 16, 1.46, 2.16, 2.46, 
3.16, 3.46, 4.16, 4.46, 5.16, 5.46, 6.16, 6.46,7.16,9,16, 10.31 
11. 31 P. M. 

({Sundays excepted. 5ISundays only. 

TICKET, Telegraph and Tiansfcr Offices 222 Mont- 
gomery street, San Francisco. 


Superintendent. G. F. &. P. Agent. 

Originators of the Parlor and Receiving Vault System. 
Closets to conceal goods. Telephone No. 5137. 


1 i m it vi DIRECTORS, 

118 Geary St., San Francisco, opp. Starr King's Church. 
Finest Funeral Furniture on the coast. 


Schuyler & Armstrong, Philadelphia. 



Commencing Sunday, November 16, ihn i 

And until further notice, Pasvcnger Trains wilt leave from 
and arrive at San Francisco Passenger Depot (Townsend 
Itreet, between Third and Fourth streets) as follows: 

1 . K A V K 

S. F. 



S. F. 

16. a. ni. 

8.30 a. m. 
10.40 a. m. 
•a. 30 p. ni. 

4.30 p. m. 
•5.15 p. m. 

6.30 p. m. 

San Mateo, Redwood and 
Menlo Park. 


6.35 a. m. 
•8.10 a. m. 

9.03 a. in. 
• 10.02 a. m. 

8.36 p. in. 
p. in. 

6.08 p. m. 

8.30 a. m. 
10.40 a. m. 
•3.30 p. m. 

4.30 p. m. 

j Santa Clara, San Jose and 1 
| Principal Way Stations, j 

9.03 a. m. 
• 10.02 a. B, 
3.36 p. m. 
6.08 p. m. 

10.40 a. m. I 
•3.30 p. m. | 

| Gilroy, Pajaro, Castroville, 1 
1 Salinas and Monterey. ( 

•10.0? a. in. 
1 6.08 p. m. 

10.40 a. m. | 
•3.30 p. m. | 

| Hollister and Trcs Pinos. j 

1 • 10.02 a. m. 
I 6.08 p. m. 

10.40 a. m. 1 
•3.30 p. m. 1 

1 Watsonville, Aptos, Soqucl I 
I (Camp Capitola.A S. Cruz, i 

6.08 p. ID, 

10.40 a. m. I Soledad and W ay Stations. | 6.08 p. in. 
VSundays excepted, t Sundays only (Sportsmen's train) . 

ISSTStandard of Timr. — Trains are run on Pacific 
Standard Time (Randolph & Co.), which is Ten (10) 
minutes faster than San Francisco Local Time. 

STAGE CONNECTIONS are made with the 10.40 
a. m. Train, except Prscaurko stages via San Mateo and 
Redwood, which connect with 8 30 a. m. Train. 

rates— to Monterey, Aptos, Soquel and Santa Cruz; also 
to Paraiso and Paso Robles Springs. 


To Gilroy, San Jose and Intermediate Points. 

For Sundays only. I So,d Sunday morning; good for 

* * ( return same day. 
Also, to Monterey, Santa Cruz, Soquel, Aptos, Gilroy, 

San Jose, and intermediate points. 
For Saturday, ) Sold on Saturday and Sunday only. 
Sunday and j Good for return until following Mon- 
Monday. ) day, inclusive. 

Ticket Offices. — Passenger Depot, Townsend street, 
Valencia street Station, and No. 613 Market street — 
Grand Hotel. H. R. JUDAH, 

Asst. Passonger and Ticket Agent. 
A. C. BASSETT, Superintendent. 

,'t' sol I 11 1 it N |)h IMOTVS I 
For points on Southern Divisions and the East, sec C* 
P. R. R. Time Schedule. 



until further notice, P>oatt and Trains will leave front and 
arrive at San Francisco Passenger Depot, Market Street 
Wh >rf, as follows : 

San Francisco. 


Arrive in 
San Francisco. 


7,45 a. m. 

8. op a. in. 

3.30 Pi m.l 

Santa Rosa, 
8c Way Stations. 


6.10 p m. 


8.50 a. ni. 
6,05 p. m. 

7.45 a. m. 18. 00a. m.l (luerneville. i6.iop. m.16.05 p. m. 

Stages connect at Santa Rosa for Sevastopol and Mark 
We t Spri> gs ; at Clairville for Skaggs Springs, and at 
Cloverdale for Highland Springs, kelsey ville, Soda Hay, 
Lakeport, Saratoga Springs, Blue Lakes Ukiah, Eureka, 
Navarro Ridge, Mendocino ' ity, and the Geyser-.. 

EXCURSION TICKETS— front Saturdays to Mon- 
days — To Petaluma, $1 75 : to Santa Rosa, $3 ; to Healds* 
burg, $4; to Cloverdale, $5. 

EXCURSION TICKETS— good for Sundays only— 
To Petaluma, $1 50; to Santa Rosa, $2 ; to Hcaldsburg, 
$3; to Cloverdale, $4 50; to Guenteville, $3. 

From San Francisco for Point TibtVOD and San Ra- 
fael — Week days : 7.45 a. m., 9.15 a. m„ ia.00 m., 3.30 p. 
m., 5 p. in., 6.10 p. m. Sundays: 8 a. m., 9.30 a. nt. t 
n.oo a. m., 1.30 p. m., 5 p. m. 

To San Francisco from San Rafael— Week days : 6.30 
a. m.j 8 a. m.. 10.30 a m., 1.30 p m., 3.40 p. m., 5 05 p. 
m. Sundays: 8.10 a. m., 9.40 a. in., 13.15 p. m., 3,30 p. 
m., 5.00 p. in. 

To San Francisco from Point Tiburon— Week days: 
7.00 a. m., 8.20 a. m., 10.55 ■• '-55 !>• m., 4.05 p. m., 
5.30 p. m. Sundays: 8.35 a. m., 10.05 a - m *« 12.40 p. 111. , 
3.55 p. m., 5.30 p. m. 

ARTHUR Hl fJHES, General Manager. 

PETER J. McGl.YNN, Gen. Pass, and Tkt. Agt. 


Steamer James M. Donahue leaves Sun Francisco and 
connects with trains at Sou ma Landing as follows: 
7. '^J/^^f- M., daily (Sunday excepted), from Wasli- 

• *J y~f ington Street Wharf, for the town of Sono- 
ma, Glen Ellen, and way points. 

Of~^^' M. (Sundays oTy), from Washington 

• Street Wharf, for the town of Sonoma, l»lcn 
KUen, anil way points. Round trip tickets to Sonoma, 
$1 ; Glen Ellen %t 50. 

ARTHUR HUGHES, General Manager. 
PETE R J. MiGI.VNN, Gen. Pa-s. and 1 kt. Agt. 

Price, with extra quality Blade, $1 50. PACIFIC SAW 
ANUFACTURING COMPANY. Nos. 17 and 19 Fre- 


monl street, San Francisco. Agents C. It- Paul's Files. 



Endoried by the Medical Profeiiion. 
For tale eveiywhere. 

Oepot, 013 Sacramento Street. 




Gambettn's political estate is yet in chancery. 
There is no recognized heir. 

Dr. Gustavus Nachtig&l, the celebrated Afri- 
can explorer, is dead; RgQu lifly lwo years. 

John Sherman, an accurate observer, predicts 
that the year before us will restore business pros- 

It is sai(\ that England was not aware of 
Henry Irvine's literary skill until the "publica- 
tion of his Harvard address. 

lirinsley Richards, the most eminent of Welsh 
Composers of noAlsic, and author of "God Bless 
the Prince of Wales," is dead. 

Vienna has conferred the freedom of the city 
upon Johann Strauss, and granted him perpet- 
ual exemption from income tax. 

Schopenhauer says life is a burden, a calamity, 
and that " no man should address his neighbor 
as Sir, but as My fellow-sufferer." 

Martin Karquhar Tupper, the philosophical 
poet, acknowledges that he is harassed by 
debts, but not of his own contracting. 

Prof. Boyesen, of Columbia College, is sued 
for administering a cuff to a boy upon a hotel 
piazza two years ago, causiug deafness, it is said. 

The King of Bavaria has excited the indigna- 
tion of the Bavarians by bestowing the cross of 
the Order of St. Michael upon Victorian Sardou. 

Of the new poets, Edith M. Thomas is the 
most widely praised in print. Her recently 
published collection of poems is very popu- 

Nubar l'asha, the Egyptian Prime Minister, 
has apologized to the Ircnch Charge d'Affairs, 
and the Bosfhon Egyptien incident is con- 

George William Curtis will deliver the ad- 
dress at the meeting of the National Civil Ser- 
vice Association, at Newport, Rhode Island, in 

Thomas Hood said late in life that his great- 
est comfort was that he had never written a line 
which, on moral considerations, he would wish 
to erase. 

At the US vailing of the bust of Poe, at the 
New York Museum of Arts recently, Edwin 
Booth referred to the poet as " the most original 
American author." 

General Grant contradicts the assertion that 
Adam Badeau had done the work of composition 
on his forthcoming book, while he (the General) 
had furnished the notes. 

Mr. Ruskin has resigned the Slate Professor- 
ship of Fine Arts at Oxlord University, prefer- 
ring retirement to the caricature and criticism to 
which the position exposed him. 

The discovery of Charles Egbert Craddock's 
identity is really a literary sensation of first im- 
portance. For seven years this author has been 
steadily climbing to the front rank among the 
literary workers of the present day. 

Richtcr, the great Wagnerian conductor, has 
almost consented to take command of the Ger- 
man contingent at the Metropolitan Opera 
House in New York city, and Mapleson is said 
to have Nilsson engaged for a tour. 

The nurse of Charlotte Bronte, Nancy Wain- 
Wright, recently became an inmate of an English 
almshouse. Although eighty-two years old, her 
faculties are well preserved, and she delights in 
reciting her recollection of the Bronte family. 

Such progress is making in solving the mys- 
tery which surrounds the career of John Har- 
vard, the founder of the university, that we may 
expect the full information will be given next 
year, at the two hundred and fiftieth anniver- 
sary of the establishment of that institution. 

The Baron Alphonse de Rothschild is a candi- 
date for admission to the F'rench Academy, but 
finds his enormous wealth, possibly for the first 
time in his life, an embarrassment . Dumas and 
Meissionier are said to oppose him directly, on 
the ground that he should content himself with 
being a millionaire. 

Ferdinand VI of Spain, while suffering under 
the hereditary melancholy from which he subse- 
quently died, was pacing to and fro one Decem- 
ber day in the year 1739, in his bedroom in the 
Palace Royal of Madrid. He was interrupted 
by the entrance of Maria Theresa, his queen, 
who bounded gayly into the room. In her hand 
she held a flower of dazzling whiteness, which 
she presented to her husband. "A beautiful 
flower, but scentless," exclaimed the king, fold- 
ing in his arms the wife whom he passionately 
loved. " It is the new flower of the Philippines, 1 ' 
said the queen ; " I have kept the best for you." 
The flower which Maria Theresa brought to her 
husband a century and a half ago had been pre- 
sented to her the previojs day by a Jesuit mis- 
sionary just returned from the Indies. Craving 
an audience from his sovereign, he brought his 
offering, a small shrub w ith glossy green leaves, 
on which blossomed two magnificent white 
flowers, and which he had brought from the 
island of Luzon, one of the Philippine group. It 
was about three feet in height, and grew in a 
vase of mother-of-pearl. The Jesuit donor was 
named Camellia, and the new flower was called 
after him Camellia. Cuttings from the rare 
shrub were carefully cultivated in the hot-houses 
of El Buen Retiro, at Madrid. ThouL'h it was 
introduced into Spain toward the end of 17 39, 
the new flower of I ather Camellia remained for 
a long time in a state of semi-obscurity, as the 
possessors jealously guarded it lest it should be- 
come common. But the monopoly was grad- 
ually relaxed, and the camellia now blooms 
nearly as universally as other beautiful orna- 
ments of the (lower garden. 

The greater part of the suffering and crime 
which exist among us now arises simply from 
people not understanding the truism that toil is 
the only source of wealth, but hoping in some 
way to cheat or abrogate this everlasting law of 
life, and to feed where they have not furrowed, 
and to be warm where they have not woven. 

It was discovered on examination not long 
ago, says a contemporary, that a chimney eighty 
feet high at a machine shop at Holyoke, Mas- 
sachusetts, was about forty-two inches out of 
perpendicular. The method employed in right- 
ing was quite simple. A harness was located 
under the cornice, and two others below the 
first. Two lever jack-screws were placed under 
the girders of one of the harness on one side and 
six jack-screws similarly on the other side. The 
earth was then carefully loosened about the 
chimney on the opposite side from that of its in- 
clination, and water poured in, after which the 
jack-screws were turned gradually, and the earth 
again loosened and dampened with the hose. 
Alter this process had been several times re- 
peated, the earth was puddled, and the whole 
stands now properly righted 


Corner Sutler and Kearny Streets. 
GEO. SCHMITT Sole Proprietor and Manager 

Bverj Evening During the week. 

First appearance in this city, direct from the East, of 

AND. . . . 


A flattering Reception Tendered to Our 
Vocal Queen, 
Together with Our Great Fountain Stock Company. 


SUPERIOR TO ALL for family use. Lights quicker, 
bums longer, makes less smoke and soot than any other. 
If your dealer don't hoppeu to have it, send to 


1 00 to 113 Mission street. 




No printing matter on the Cigarette proper. Each Ci- 
garette is BHHOSSEO with the brand. 



833-a-i.-) Batter; Street. 



Sole Agent Pacific Coast WM. J. LEMP'S WESTERN 
BREWERY, St. Louis, Mo. 

411 Bunk Street, San Franelaco. 

Large stock of Beer in bulk and bottles always on hand. 
Orders from dealers promptly attended to. 



For Sale Everywhere. Take 110 ntlier. 






Kent Beei-M alnats on tlraugkt. 

Lunches a specialty. 



Either Fire-proof, Burglar-proof, or Fire and Burglar- 
proof, a Bank Vault, J'ime Lock, or anything in the 
line of Safes, large or small, don't fail to call on 


2ir and 213 California street. 
Safes sold on installments or taken in exchange. 

C. B. PARCKI.LS, Manager. 



310 San so me street, 

San Francisco. 




•3«i 3«3. 3'5 and 3'7 Market street, San Fr ncisco. 





$750,000 00 
$1,520,894 77 

i>. J. STAPLES, PreaMent. 

A LP HEWS BULL, Vice- Pre* m. 

William .1. iti rrov Secretary. 
B. \». CARPENTER, Assist. Secretary 







118 Sutter St., 

San Francisco, Cal. 



Unqualifiedly and Emphatically, 


In the World! 

COAL AND PIC IRAN J - macdonouch & co., 

w "I IL. fill U I ■ VJ I I I VJ I 1 • 41 Market Street. < or. Spear, San I 1 sr. 1. 



. ft A 



. TEA 






Ii 111 A. 3D 


5 Cents per Copy. 


At IO Cents per Week. 


ESTABLISHED - A.. D. 1828. 

Capital 5,000,000 Dollars. 


Office. 309 Sansome Street, ' San Francisco. 



One of the most accessible and convenient houses in the 
city. Newly furnished and carpeted throughout. 
Contains 125 rooms, single and en suite. Located at 
at Nos. 709 and 711 Jones street, close to the Sutter 
Street Car line, and within a block of the Geary Street 
Cable Road. House is supplied with Elevator, Tele- 
phone, and two American District Telegraphs. 

Special attention has been given to ensure complete 
ventilation, while the sanitary provisions are unexcelled. 
Prices according to location of room. 



I \crj Afternoon. 


SO Cts. per Month. 



1. You get the maximum of News for the minimum of 


2. Your wife and daughters like it better than " those 
other stupid papers." 

3. If you go home ill-natured, reading the REPORT 
at dinner will make you good*natured. 

4. It talks common sense, and only expresses an opin- 
ion when it has something interesting to say. 

5. Its editorials are not a mile long. 

6. It is clean. 

7. It doesn't take all day to read it. 

8. It gives more items of news than any other paper. 

9. Every line sparkles. 

10. It is the best paper for the 'east money. * 

11. If you don't take the DAILY REPORT you 
don't get the news. 


618 «'lu> street, 
(Between Montgomery and Sansome streets) 


A First-class Restaurant for Ladies and Gentlemen. 114 
Sutter street, between Kearny and Montgomery, Sao 
Francisco. E. R. PERRIN, Proprietor. 


MAY 23, 1885. 

4C L VOL. III.— NO. is. 



Postscripts Derrick Dodd i 

The Man Who Was Guilty — Chapters V, VI 

Flora Haines Apponyi 2-3-4 

Woman's Realm F. E. W. 5 

The Rambler J. D. S. 6 

The Point of View Adley H. Cummins 6 

Rambles Among Books Ferret 7 

Editorial: What is Education? The Stanford Memorial School; 

The Unaccountable Spring Valley; The Chronicle's Enterprise; 

Professor Swing on Opera ; The Supreme Court Commission. 

Short Bits Francesca 9 

About Spirit Mfdicms n 

Germany's Aged Emperor 11 

Washington Chat Elise Hathaway 12 

Amusements Dorothy 13 

About Town Fingal Buchanan 13 

Keeping Order in Church. 14 

Poetrv: Once; O Mistress Mine; Kiss Me Softly; The Life of 

Song; An Ancestor; A Story of School. 



A camping party of nine persons were recently Snowed- 
in, near Manitoba, and were without food for eight days, 
only one man surviving. He was a journalist. Nothing 
like training, after all. 

The Blue Book shows that there are thirty-six Rear- 
Admirals in our navy. There is nothing like protecting 
the rear. Uncle Sam may be said to carry a brick in his 
coat-tail pocket. 

Last week, in Albany, New York, an eight-year-old 
boy killed an Irish servant girl with a shot-gun. This 
shows a decided advance toward that ideal civilization we 
are so ahxious to attain. Nothing could be more encour- 
aging unless the servant girls should be thereby incited to 
the killing of eight-year-old boys. That would be some- 
thing like a millennium. 

A contemporary accuses the proprietor of the Examiner 
of having lost his head. Lucky it wasn't his pocket-book. 
Something in that. 

Ouida says that women'do not fall in love any more. 
This shows that this year's stock of women is more deceit- 
ful than ever, which is unnecessary to say the least. If 
the novelist complained that the men didn't fall in love, 
we should know what was the matter with Ouida. 

A Stand-Off.— Young Botts was up country fishing 
last week, when he received a dispatch calling him home. 

"My dear boy," said his partner, taking him aside, 
" have you the courage to bear up under a terrible blow ? " 

" W-h-a-t is it?" gasped Botts. 

" Your wife has eloped ! " 

"Great Scott!" said the deserted husband. "With 
whom ? " 
"With Filkins, the tailor." 

" You don't say so! " replied the bereaved man; with a 
beaming smile. " Why, I owed him six hundred dollars. 
What'll you take?" 

Heaven does indeed temper the wind to the shorn 
lamb. . 

There have been a good many changes on the police 
force, but the Commissioners will never remove Captain 
Kentzel. They know when they've got a fat thing. 

A Raleigh, North Carolina, woman has sued for a di- 
vorce, on the ground that her husband has negro blood 
in his veins, and possesses a fiightful temper. Altogether, 
he must be a Southern Cross. 

A man was last week detected in trying to unlatch the 
door dividing the lion and hyena cages at Woodward's 
Gardens. He explained that there was nothing he en- 
joyed so much as a good fight; but he yelled like a pirate 
when they dropped him over into the alligator tank. 

ESTHETIC Journalism. — They got a new reporter on 
the Portland Slasher the other day. He was a young 
man with a high forehead, hair parted in the middle, and 
dreamy, poetic eyes. He was just from college, and 
knew he could make a success as a journalist, because he 
had written a short story for Godey's Lady's Book. He 
remarked to the editor that Ouida was the only writer 
whose style was really worth imitating, and that there was 
a soft idyllic charm about William Black's books that was 
simply inimitable. 

The editor said he " shouldn't wonder," and sent the 
new man down to see what was going on at the Police 
Court. Later on the graduate handed in the following 
report : 

" Biddy McGinnis, did you strike the defendant with a 
beer mug?" asked His Honor, as a woman with a red 
shawl and nose took the stand. 

The soft spring zephyrs rustled the papers on the dusty 
desks. Through the open window came the distant chirp 
of the bobolink, from the meadows fragrant with the 
breath of daisy-bespangled grain. " I'll not be desavin' 
yer Honor; I guv 'im thur full ov me fist in the oye, sur." 

From the fresh hedgerows and primrose-flecked dell 
floated the delicate scent of the honeysuckle and trailing 
arbutus. A huge bumble-bee droned lazily across the 
foreground, carrying its golden store of rifled sweets. 

" It's the lie she guv me that begun it," remarked Mr. 
Hoolihan, from his seat. "It's not ther first illigant 
dance she's bruck up wid her ructions intoirely, so it 

The Judge wiped his cardinal-tinted brow, and his gaze 
wandered idly out through the checkered squares of sun- 
light that drifted down from the idly stirring leaves of the 
maple trees to where the hazy outlines of the far-off hills 
melted into the blue evanescent mist of the evening sky. 
The dying sun threw a great tender flood of purple light 
over the slowly reddening expanse, while, in the middle 
distance, an implacable white crag lifted its fevered fore- 
head to the slow-coming dew. 

" The whole gang of 'em were b'ilin' drunk, yer Honor," 
said Officer Grabbey. " The woman's been up twenty- 
one times already." 

It was the clear mellow note of the quail in the stubble 
the freshening breeze brought faintly but sweetly to their 
ears, mingled quaintly with the twitter of the moth-pur- 
suing orioles, flashing through the orchard opening and 
away into the dim gathering shadows. 

"It's a loie, yer Honor — only nineteen toimes; divil 
the wan more." 

By this the solemn slow clouds had piled in a far-reach- 
ing sinister shape above the bloody couch of the slain and 
dying day. At their summit two steadfast star eyes came 
out to see, as though in the far grayness of remote an- 
tiquity some sphynx-like Cain bent stolid and unremorse- 
ful gaze above his fresh-murdered kin. 

who runs over a female over thirty years of age ought to 
be treated as a public benefactor these hard times; any- 
way, treated. 

Bobby's Mistake. — A sad catastrophe took place in 
Santa Rosa recently, which aptly illustrates the baneful 
effects of dime literature upon the young. Little Bobby 
McPherson had read The Boy Detective, or The Doomed 
Nurse, and in emulation of the deeds of the hero, Bobby 
carefully disemboweled the sitting-room sofa of its 
stuffing and secreted himself in its place, early last 
Sunday evening. His idea was to overhear the secrets of 
his big sister's young man, and hereafter track him like 
a "sleuth-hound," which he understood was the correct 
line of business for a detective. 

The next morning Bobby failed to report at the break- 
fast table, and it was only after five days of anxious search 
that his corpse was discovered by the strong odor of 
small boy, aggravated by decomposition, that proceeded 
from the sofa. From the evidence elicted by the 
coroner's jury, it appeared that the big sister hereinbefore 
mentioned, and the yound man referred to, had occupied 
one end of said sofa on the evening in question from eight 
p. m. until 1 : 30 a. m., more or less. As Bobby's head 
was directly beneath the seat of action, it was fair to sup- 
pose that he had been smothered by the said parlies of 
the second and third parts. 

The sister testified that she remembered that the sofa 
seemed to be a little uneasy that evening, but as the 
lamp was turned down, and earthquakes were so fre- 
quent, she hadn't noticed it particularly. Her young 
man is under bonds to stand up for the future, while 
Bobby's father has cast additional gloom over the com- 
munity by writing some obituary verses for the news- 

He Was Disgusted. — In moments of peril there is 
nothing like presence of mind, unless it be absence of 
body. One moonless night last week old Dr. Bazcmbee 
was returning from a patient at Mission Bay, when he 
discovered that his steps were being dogged by a burly 
ruffian. They were in a lonely part of the town, near 
the depot, when the Doctor, after buttoning his coat up 
to the chin, turning up his collar and pulling his hair over 
his eyes, suddenly turned back, and said to his pursuer: 

" Please, sir, gimme a dime to get some coffee. I've 
just walked up from San Jose. I don't want to buy 
whisky; indeed I don't, sir " 

" Blast my soul," growled the foot-pad, with intense 
disgust, " to think I've been shadowing a blamed old 
pauper over three miles!" and he walked off, swearing 
like a pirate in the last act. 

" Six months," said the Court. " Next ! " 
" Did you write this?" asked the editor. 
"I flatter myself I did," said the dreamy-eyed re- 
" Come with me ! " 

And in a few minutes the editor returned with gore- 
fresh human gore-spots— on his cuffs. 

A Good Driver.— A Mr. George Snyder has been ar- 
rested for driving over an old lady, and furiously de- 
nounces the outrage in a public card. The outrage he 
refers to is the arrest, not the accident. All the same, we 
fully indorse Mr. Snyder's protest. If tax-payers have 
no rights, and cannot occasionally obliterate the ruts per- 
manently overlooked by our Street Commissioner, then it 
is about time our wealthy citizens began that grand 
dramatic exodus to New York we hear so much about 
and see so little of. Something has got to be done to 
render our roadways less destructive to fine vehicles, and 
we doubt if any substance more elastic and durable than 
old woman could be procured. The cold fact is that 
there are too many women trying to spend what little 
bullion is left in the community, as it is, and any driver 

The belt for ironclad copper-riveted nerve now belongs 
to a local burglar. Last week he broke into a house at 
North Beach, and stole a bag containing a hundred 
dollars. The next day he dropped the owner of the 
house a postal card saying that the money being all in 
trade dollars, which he was obliged to part with at 92 
cents, he was forced to request that the eight. dollars dis- 
count be remitted by return mail. 

It doesn't pay to be heroic nowadays, any way you fix 
it. A Marysville clergyman stopped a runaway team one 
day last week, and saved the lives of two women. The 
next day they had it all over town that the Rev. Mr. 
Goshing was seen statigering home, beastly drunk, and 
with his clothes all over mud. 

At what absurd trifles some women get angry! A 
female book -agent who had cornered a poor devil on the 
Oakland boat the other day, got as mad as a hornet when 
somebody sang out " Man overbored I " 

Two more savings banks have gone up in the East. 
There is a growing conviction that the dollar of our 
daddies secreted in the stocking of our mothers, and hid 
under the hearth of our ancestors, is considerably safer 
than the bank deposits of our conttmporare?, as t were. 






During the brief interval that transpired between the 
issue of Hale's sentence and its execution, Stubbs had 
been tried and convicted before another tribunal. Both 
prisoners were arraigned for trial in a hapless period. The 
rapid growth of crime throughout the state, the con- 
temptuous disregard of the laws evinced by criminals 
high and low, attributed to the wanton miscarriage of 
justice in the cases of several notorious offenders, had so 
incensed the people that they had risen in a solid phalanx 
at the last election. Eschewing the delicate political 
apparatus of the primaries, they had seated on the bench 
a body of men of stern fiber and unimpeachable integrity, 
pledged to carry out the laws in their most stringent appli- 
cation. Under such circumstances, Stubbs's bold career 
as criminal and outlaw served him ill, and after a scath- 
ing denunciation from the bench— a dissertation to which 
the housebreaker listened with an expression of affable 
approval— the evil hand of well-deserved fate descended 
upon him, and the state adopted him as its ward for a 
term of twenty years. 

The two men set out together upon their journey one 
rainy autumn day, their wrists linked together by a stout 
steel chain — outer emblem of the subtle bond of crime — 
moving down an obscure side street, under convoy of a 
deputy sheriff. Hale walked the pavement with a me- 
chanical tread, looking neither to right nor left, apparently 
wrapt in sad meditation ; and the chill of his companion's 
mood seemed to infect the other prisoner's happy spirit, 
overclouding his jolly face and checking his customary 

No sympathetic convention of friends with noisy dem- 
onstrations of regret, no parting mementos of affection 
or good-will, marked their departure from their native 
city into long and ignominious exile. Even the house- 
breaker's boon companions, whose profession may be 
assumed to have afforded them ample leisure by day, and 
who hailed with avidity every occasion that admitted of 
boisterous celebration, guided either by motives of deli- 
cacy toward their luckless comrade or a wholesome dread 
of venturing in too close proximity to the minions of the 
law, gave the trio a wide berth. 

As they reached the wharf and stood outside the ferry 
gate, their progress delayed by a lock of vehicles, Hale 
felt a cordial slap on his shoulder, and turned to see a 
huge fellow in a rough gray suit, armed with the accou- 
terments of a freshly returned traveler. 

" How are you, Hale?" 

" Home again, Banks? " 

The traveler did not observe the flush of shame that 
darkened the young man's face, the embarrassed tone that 
distinguished his greeting. 

" We've had a capital three-months' outing — a fine lot 
of specimens, I assure you. But mountaineering is rough 
business in wet weather, and I'm glad to be back again." 

He spoke with a hearty candor that was good to hear, 
and Hale's heart failed him as he met his friend's true 
and honest eyes. 

" What's up? A hunt up country? You should be 
differently rigged out for such weather," significantly 
touching the young man's light suit. 

With a despairing gesture Hale raised his right hand, 
and the glittering steel bracelet came into view, while the 
pendent links rattled a dismal accompaniment to his act. 
His friend recoiled, overcome with indignation and dis- 

"What wretched buffoonery is this, Hale?" he de- 
manded, sternly. 

" I tell you it is no buffoonery. It is the awful reality," 
insisted the miserable man. 

" No talking to prisoners, sir. Beg pardon, but them's 
my orders." 

The deputy touched his hat civilly to the transgressor 
as he spoke, for he recognized an old and well-beloved 
citizen of San Francisco, whose scientific achievements 
rendered him illustrious throughout two continents. 

Overcome by the shock of the intelligence, John 
Banks allowed the party to pass on without further parley. 

Hale did not lift his head again until they stood on the 
boat and a hoarse steam whistle announced her de- 
parture, when he scanned the loiterers on the wharf. 
There was the usual quota of water-front officials, clad in 
dark uniforms with shining brass buttons, and moving 
about with pompous authority. Empty express wagons 
were driven noisily off in the direction of the city. A 
few well-dressed people lingered on the pier, waving fare- 
well to friends on board the steamer. One figure alone 
attracted his attention. It was that of a woman who had 
sought shelter from curious gaze in a retired nook of the 
wharf, at the rear of a huge freight warehouse. Clad in 
a long gray cloak that concealed the outlines of her form, 
with the hood drawn closely about her face, she was half 
leaning against, half clinging to a stout pile that rose 
above the edge of the pier. As the boat swung around 
on her course, he caught a fleeting glimpse of the 
woman's face, and for the moment— so powerful is the 

optical illusion sometimes wrought by the fancies of a 
disordered brain, so distinctly are such fancies some- 
times photographed upon the actual vision — he could 
have sworn that it was the face of Margaret Thaxter, 
the girl who had unwittingly worked his ruin. 

At the prison he had prepared to encounter a new 
world, foreign in appearance, antipodal in tastes, dis- 
tinct in character, impulses and temperament, from the 
mold of society in which his lot had been cast. He 
found himslf one of a large community typifying in a 
marked degree the great world of which each had at some 
time been a component part. Victims of misguided 
passions or of moral weakness, their brotherhood in 
crime had not served to rend the tie which bound them 
in close fellowship with the entire human race, although 
the brutal and ignorant element preponderated. He met 
the shrewd lawyer, who had suborned testimony in a 
wealthy client's case, and had himself fallen into the 
clutches, of the very law he had invoked ; the prosaic 
farmer, whose mind not even the commission of a double 
murder could divert from the discussion of the exact line 
of the fruit belt and the relative merits of different schemes 
of irrigation; the man of philosophy, who had inad- 
vertently become a polygamist in the development of his 
theory of spiritual affinities; the man of science, who 
had been caught cribbing a cask of alcohol, for the 
preservation of specimens, from the cellar of a railroad 
king, in a virtuous effort to avenge the injustice of the pro- 
hibitory freight tariff imposed by the company upon sci- 
entific collections designed for purposes of exchange ; 
dapper government clerks, who had put their signatures 
to vouchers for other men's salaries; clergymen, whose 
principles had proven too elastic for their offices; 
managers of tontine insurance companies, whose finan- 
ciering abilities had proven inferior to their mathematical 
[x>wers ; bankers who had engaged in disastrous specu- 
lations — men of every known profession and calling, re- 
duced to one common plane by the dread leveler of 

Hale was astonished at the number of familiar faces 
that greeted him. One by one, and through the commis- 
sion of various iniquities, they had dropped out of the 
circles that had known them, and no one had cared to 
enumerate them. A California street broker of prestige 
in the flush days of the passing decade, occupied the cell 
next to his own ; he recognized in the dishwasher a 
darky who had served him daily for a couple of years in 
a fashionable Pine street coffee-house; a hack-driver 
named Burke, against whose extortions he had once pro- 
tected a couple of ladies — a mild species of highway 
robbery, which Burke pursued with such success that he 
afterwards took to the road in genuine professional form — 
was under life sentence, and had risen to the proud post 
of trusty, a position which afforded grand opportunity for 
the exercise of personal spite. Before the expiration of 
Hale's term he had for a neighbor the retiring Secretary 
of the Light House Commission — a genial and popular 
fellow, whose pardon for a gross malfeasance in office was 
the last official act of a retiring President of the Union. 

Hale was by no means popular among his fellow-prison- 
ers. He did not possess the elasticity of temperament 
which might have enabled him to laugh away his disgrace, 
forgetful of the past and careless of the future; nor was 
he hypocrite enough to feign a lightness of heart that he 
did not feel. His tidy personal habits, his habitual 
reserve, his honest and straightforward course, united with 
his decency of speech and manner, alienated him from 
the vulgar and unlettered rabble, although a quiet and 
undemonstrative friendship grew up between him and 
others, who, like himself, had permitted the weakness 
of a moment to blight the promise of a lifetime. 

Toward the officers of the prison who came most in 
contact with his daily life, he occupied the unfortunate 
relation of a man whom circumstance and his own error 
had placed in an attitude of the most humiliating subor- 
dination, but who was nevertheless their superior in edu- 
cation and breeding. With the suspicion of coarse 
natures, they were ready to misinterpret and distort his 
most inoffensive act. His unfailing obedience to their 
rules was construed into a derisive recognition of their 
power ; his respectful courtesy seemed a cloak for hidden 
mockery; his taciturnity was translated to signify the 
bitterness of contempt. 

Stubbs, on the other hand, was on terms of the most 
cordial friendship with every one within the grounds, from 
the surliest turnkey to the gruffest of his fellow-prisoners. 
His jolly face, genial manner, and spontaneous wit, made 
him a general favorite. To him the j)ena!ty he had in- 
curred possessed no element of embarrassment or terror. 
The needs of his nature were by no means exacting. A 
whole roof above his head, warmth and plenty, and a 
crowd at hand who could appreciate the merits of a good 
story, made up the sum total of the demands of his exist- 
ence. It is true that the curtailment of his liberty was 
something of a hardship to a man of his temperament, 
but it is possible that within the hidden depths of his soul 
he realized his utter instability and incapacity to cope 
with temptation, his total inability to serve any good use 
in the economy of civilization. Opposed to this philo- 
sophic consolation was the prospect that some of his 
ardent friends outside might contrive to procure the ex- 
ercise of executive clemency — a possibility which intro- 

duced into his somewhat monotonous life an agreeable 
and exciting element. He realized, in a dim way, that 
some subtle difference in the fabric of Hale's inner being 
created demands which were beyond his comprehension, 
and prevented his friend from finding solace in the vulgar 
comforts that served his use; but he never guessed the 
bitter inner conflict that waged within the young fellow's 
soul, the sickening repulsion that crept over him, the utter 
impossibility of assimilation with the coarse natures by 
whom he was surrounded. There were times when it 
seemed as if the monotonous routine of daily duty, the 
changeless scene, the sight of the same discouraged and 
sullen faces, would drive Hale mad. But he resolutely 
denied his impatience all outward demonstration, and 
thereby scored a victory over himself that was never en- 
tered on the prison records, and endowed him with a 
power of self-control that served him well in after days. 
He sometimes comforted himself with the thought that 
during the years of his imprisonment there might arise an 
opportunity for valorous action or self-sacrifice, by which 
he might assert his manhood and offset the unhappy deed 
that weighed him down in public estimation; but he was 
destined to be one of the silent majority of penitents 
whose sacrifices are never reckoned, whose victories are 

The chance for which Hale had vaguely longed arrived 
in due course of time, and passed him by. When, sev- 
eral years after the date of his incarceration, a fire broke 
out in the Warden's house, it was Stubbs, who luckily 
chanced to be on the outside, who recognized the peril 
and the need, who grasped the momentary danger of in- 
surgency, and realized the frightful consequences if an 
army of over a thousand criminals should break loose; 
who seized a rifle dropped by an excited guard, and, 
mounting the broad wall which served as a beat for the 
sentries, aided by several brave and determined men, 
quelled the riot in its inception, and organized a valiant 
and reliable company of volunteers to fight the devastat- 
ing element; Stubbs who boldly made his way where the 
blaze was fiercest and the heat most intolerable, who in- 
cited others to courageous deeds by his own intrepid ex- 
ample, and, when the flames were finally vanquished, was 
led from the spot with singed hair and eyebrows, scarred 
face and blinded eyes. 

While these exciting events transpired, Hale was lying 
in the hospital, safely removed from all danger of confla- 
gration, delirious in the clutches of a low malarial fever. 
His first conscious act was to read an official document 
aloud to a fellow-prisoner who wandered through the - 
ward with bandaged eyes. The fellow-convict was Stubbs; 
the paper, which bore the Governor's signature, was a 
free and unconditional pardon. 

Hale made the most of the occasion, and curing the 
quiet days that followed had many serious talks with the 
housebreaker in relation to the errors of his past life and 
the possibilities open before him. Stabbs heard him 
without demur, assenting to his admonitions with a rare 
mixture of integrity of purpose and laxity of principle 
that undermined Hale's gravity. When his eyesight be- 
came finally restored, and there was no longer any excuse 
for delaying his departure, Stubbs evinced a singular dis- 
inclination to avail himself of his freedom, and when at 
length, after repeated false starts, he stood at last, bundle 
in hand, on the threshold of the sick ward, he regarded 
his friend with wistful eyes. 
" What is it, Stubbs? " said Hale. 
Stubbs cleared his throat vigorously, decided to rest 
his weight upon one foot, then shifted it to the other. 

" If it's not askin' too much, is it sure you are, Mr. 
Hale, that you'll kape straight while I'm gone? " 

The absurdity of the appeal, coming from such a source, 
the unconscious implication that the speaker's absence 
would be a temporary episode, stirred Hale's sense of 

" If I was half as sure of you, my boy! You've got a 
brand-new start, Stubbs. Apply that pluck and obsti- 
nate determination of yours in the right direction, and there 
isn't anything you can't accomplish. Your gallant be- 
havior at the fire has made you a host of friends among 
influential people. Stand up on the strength of that, 
and, above all things, keep yourself clear of any entangle- 
ment with the old gang." 

" And indade I'll do the same, sir," replied the 
pardoned convict, with dignity. "It's ashamed I'd be 
to be reckoned amongst the lads these days, the way they 
I do their work in San Francisco. I'd smile to see myself 
spakin' to chaps that go through a house the way Billy 
Coogan and his pals handled the Widow Green's place 
on Mission street, the other night, raisin' a cry of fire in 
the street and sneakin' through the hallways, grabbin' 
overcoats and seal-skin sacks and ivry thing that could 
be aisily identified, when there was the alleyway, quiet 
and convenient by night, and a thin-bladed knife as 
would undo the fastenin'sof the butler's pantry, and a 
cool thousand dollars of rale old family plate in the 
I closet, that could be melted down in no time. It's a 
cryin' disgrace to the profession." 

Strong as was Stubbs's determination to lead an honest 
life, his ambition to show Billy Coogan and his pals a 
specimen of really artistic work in the line of their mutual 
profession was stronger. One night, some six weeks later, 
as he was departing from Vanderheyden's jewelry manu- 
factory, laden with a rich booty of watches and brooches, 


he walked into the arms of a couple of policemen whom 
a hidden burglar alarm had summoned to the spot. A 
month later he was receiving the cordial greetings of his 
old comrades in San Quentin, and the sly taunts of Billy 
Coogan and his gang. 

During the brief period of Stubbs's retirement from 
the world, the judiciary of his native city had twice 
undergone a change. Satiated with their former triumph, 
the more intelligent of the citizens had relapsed into their 
customary state of indifference to all matters political, 
and the " bosses " again took undisputed possession of 
the field. The worthy incumbents of the bench, who 
had served their constituencies faithfully for a brief period, 
were summarily deposed, to be replaced by men who 
were in some instances their peers in loyalty of purpose 
and purity of principle, but who possessed more pliable 
natures. Under these happy auspices, Stubbs's good- 
humored pleasantry, his frank contrition, his philosoph- 
ical view of the situation, and his eloquent promises of 
reformation, so impressed the Court, that upon his fifth 
conviction for burglary he was let off with a few words of 
gentle admonition and a five-years' sentence. 

The skepticism with which Stubbs had first regarded 
Hale's confession of guilt had succumbed to the latter's 
unwavering insistence, but as the housebreaker progressed 
from avowed incredulity to unwilling conviction, to his 
simple mind Hale stood forth as a tangible promise of 
moral regeneration, and all his own hopes of reformation 
were staked upon his friend's perseverance in an upright 
path. Like the single-hearted devotee of a Catholic 
country, who watches his sculptured saint with unflagging 
vigilance, fearful lest wind or weather, or the impious 
hands of heretics, should mar its noble lines or disfigure 
its chiseled beauty, Stubbs followed Hale's movements 
in open apprehension that the corrupt atmosphere of 
prison life might undermine his virtuous resolves or taint 
his spiritual nature. 

On his return to the • penitentiary the reprobate 
redoubled his vigilance, for it seemed as if the lower he 
sank, and the more hopeless the conviction of his own 
fallibility, Hale's intregrity became a question of more 
fearful moment. The very fact that the latter had placed 
a strict embargo upon the introduction of vulgar or pro- 
fane language in their intercourse together, increased the 
wondering respect with which Stubbs regarded him, and 
served to distinguish him above all the rest of his associ- 

On the rare occasions when Hale departed from his 
customary reserve to speak words of earnest advice to the 
housebreaker, reminding him of the possibilities ot good 
still before him, and pointing out the incentives that 
existed for an honest life, his auditor heard him with 
undisguised delight, less moved by the substance of the 
appeal than by the quietus to his own misgivings. 

"Good for you, Master Larry," he would respond on 
such occasions. " I'll stake my bottom dollar ivery time 
on a man that can prache like that." 

Years of hard toil, of patient endeavor, of upright 
action, steadily adhered to in spite of the atmosphere by 
which he was surrounded; weeks of sickness on a hard 
cot in a stifling ward, watched by compulsory attendants 
whose ruling consideration was how best to evade any 
overstress of duty; hoping, striving, working for an 
honorable release at the earliest lawful date ; counting up 
the credits allowed by law for good behavior, and reckon- 
ing the days of freedom they represented ; and when six 
years and one month had passed and he looked forward 
to certain discharge some eight weeks thence — an exca- 
vation was discovered in a wall of solid masonry, and the 
instruments that performed the work were found con- 
cealed beneath the bedding in his cell. The credits 
accumulated by years of patient labor and consistent 
obedience were wiped away in a moment, and four years 
more of hopeless endurance succeeded. 

When the knowledge of the prolongation of his sen- 
tence came upon Hale, the courage and patience that had 
hitherto sustained him yielded to the unexpected strain. 
It would be impossible to convey any adequate concep- 
tion of what those last four years represented to the 
weary and heartsick man. Each day of the first twelve 
months was in itself an infinite cycle, which dragged its 
interminable length along a course beset with torment 
and shadowed by the darkness of despair. 

He sometimes wondered that he did not abandon all 
restraint, and become one of the reckless, unscrupulous, 
blaspheming throng about him, accrediting his self-com- 
mand to constitutional aversion rather than any heroic 
principle of action. By degrees the galling sense of 
injustice, the miserable consciousness of valuable time 
consumed in needless sacrifice, ceased to sway his mind, 
and the same stoical calm that had distinguished him 
during the earlier years of his imprisonment, was restored. 

In the prison library Hale spent many profitable hours, 
delving among its dregs of worthless literature for stray 
volumes of interest and worth, or culling from its dry 
theological tomes occasional pearls of thought and stimu- 
lating sentiment. The last year of his confinement he 
was called upon to labor in a new field. The child con- 
victs, from ten to fourteen years of age, sentenced by the 
District Courts of interior counties for the heinous crimes 
of horse-stealing, burglary, grand larceny and the like, 
■were segregated from the older prisoners and gathered 

into a little day school, under the auspices of the good 
old chaplain. Hale was requested to assist in this work, 
and labored efficiently and well. It is said that the only 
professions of penitence or regret that ever fell from his 
lips — for in after life he was a man of deeds rather than 
words — were uttered during his ministrations among these 
erring youths. 

In the early days of his imprisonment his mother was 
stricken down with a slow and wasting disease. The 
faithful affection and encouragement that she was unable 
to express in person, were conveyed to him through the 
medium of her letters. Could the Iron Judge have been 
aware of the influence exerted by these tender missives 
he would have conceded the fallacy of one of his fore- 
most tenets of penitentiary government. These messages 
of love and hope were the prisoner's sole stimulus to good 
in an atmosphere thick with the taint of corruption. 
They steeled him against temptation, rendered him proof 
against sin. More than all, the constant reminder that the 
world still held one whose trust in him was unshaken, and 
who looked to the future with a tender dependence upon 
his aid, preserved alive within his soul that precious spark 
of immortal fire which men call self-respect, and which is 
the very germ and essence of all human progress. 

A letter from John Banks was delivered to him dur- 
ing the first month of his imprisonment, and its con- 
tents were treasured in his heart. It was short and terse, 
with a subdued vigor of meaning characteristic of the 
man, and read as follows : 

Laurence Hale, San Quentin— My Dear Boy: Nothing 
that has passed has served to alter my friendship. There are 
some who have faith that you will prove the master of circum- 
stances, and achieve a noble record yet. Bear this in mind, and 
when you return, do not fail to call upon your sincere friend, 

John Banks. 



"My soul!" The watchman on the wharf at San 
Quentin uttered the exclamation under his breath, as a 
man approached walking slowly and wearily, and coming 
from the direction of the prison buildings. The officer 
had a good memory for faces, but he looked at the new- 
comer with a puzzled expression, started to address him, 
checked himself, then ventured a doubtful inquiry. 

" Beg pardon, sir. You're not Laurence Hale?" 

The man nodded an affirmative. The watchman 
looked at the dark hair thickly sprinkled with gray, the 
sunken cheeks, the hollow eyes, the contracted lines of 
the face, the thinned and stooping form. He repeated 
the ejaculation again, this time aloud, and with reinforced 
vigor — 

" My soul! " 

He recalled the athletic, boyish figure that had de- 
scended the gangway of the steamer ten years before, the 
young and handsome face that had greeted him with a 
look of pathetic inquiry, the quick, impatient movements 
of the young fellow who had never known restraint, and 
contrasted them with this feeble specter of a man, with 
his look of premature age. Yet there was a subtle some- 
thing about the man, he could not for the life of him say 
what, that exerted a singular fascination, and command- 
edihis respect as the boy had never done. 

" Going back, sir? " 

" Yes." 

" Glad to hear it." 

It was plain that the watchman desired to be sociable. 
After a pause he renewed the conversation. 

" Standing here year in and year out, seeing men com- 
ing and going like so many bees, and being chaffed by all 
sorts of people, don't take away all the human feeling a 
body has. I'm free to confess I'd rather see a man going 
out than coming in." 

This magnanimous concession elicited no comment 
from the freed convict, who was gazing out upon the bay 
to where a small steamer glided swiftly onward, neartnLi 
the pier with every revolution of her wheels. It was an 
October day ; the air was fresh and mild ; the clear blue 
sky looked down serenely upon its own reflection mirrored 
in the bread expanse of water, unbroken save where a 
light breeze dimpled the smooth surface with silvery rip- 
ples. Across the bay the crests of the purple hills of the 
Mount Diablo range were gilded by the morning sun. 

As the boat approached the wharf several other passen- 
gers made their appearance, and one among them came 
quietly to Hale's side. 

" Why, Stubbs, I thought you left a week ago." 

"To be sure, Mr. Hale. But I couldn't help feeling 
I'd make a better start like if I could go out with you. 
May be it'll sort of brace me up, for you know it's dead 
in earnest that I am this time." 

As the boat swung from the dock the two men lingered 
on deck, and Hale looked back toward the grim quad- 
rangle where the best ten years of his life had been spent. 
He left it without regret, but he thought sadly of several 
men in whose souls the honest leaven had long ago worked 
atonement for youthful crimes, and reflected uoon the 
doom of Winchester Doyle, the life prisoner — instance of 
one of the most flagrant miscarriages of justice that ever 
disgraced a fair state — whom California had done the 
dual wrong of first condemning for a justifiable act of 
self-defense, and afterward failed to compensate for noble 
service rendered the state in time of peril. 

As the two men entered the upper cabin, Hale hesi- 

tated a moment before taking a seat on the plush cushioi 
and cast an uneasy glance about, as if expecting to heui 
a rough voice order him to join the chattering throng ot 
Chinamen on the lower deck. He had put his hand in 
his pocket — it was a novel and delightful sensation to 
wear a decent suit once more— and as he did so his fingers 
came in contact with a roll that had been handed him by 
the Warden on his dismissal. He resumed conversation 
with the housebreaker. 

"Take my advice, Stubbs. Cut San Francisco and 
your old cronies. Get off to a new place where you stand 
an equal chance with other men. Old associations will 
be too much for you here." 

Stubbs scratched his head reflectively. "Shouldn't 
wonder if it was in the right you are, Mr. Hale, but it's 
not an aisy thing to do. Travelin' on this coast costs a 
hape of money. But land! there's that crib on Sutter 
street me and the boys was about to tackle when they 
hauled me in the last time. And if iver you sec a nater 
job than I make " 

"Oh, Stubbs, Stubbs!" Hale was in despair. A 
promising beginning, indeed, for the rascal to be planning 
another robbery the first ten minutes after his embarka- 

" Where's the money they gave you when you were 
discharged? " 

" Money ! And how many miles will five dollars carry 
a man, to 'say nothin' of four days' livin' already taken 
out of it? " 

Stubbs's astonishment paralyzed him for a moment. 
Hale sat silently thinking. The sum he received then 
must have been deposited by his mother. A sudden 
whim moved him. 

" Have you any spare change about you, Stubbs? I 
may want a little myself when I get down to the city." 

The housebreaker plunged his hand into his pocket and 
drew out a small handful of silver, the sum and substance 
of his worldly possessions. Hale watched him narrowly, 
and hastily counted over the pieces. There was a half- 
dollar, two quarters, a dime, and a couple of nickels. 
Stubbs picked out one of the quarters and handed the 
balance to his friend, with the air of a prince of the crown. 
Hale deliberately pocketed it. Then he laid the roll he 
had drawn from his pocket in Stubbs's great paw. 

" Helloa! But that weighs down solid." 

" Take it, old boy." 

"And what is it you're takin' me for, Master Larry? " 

Amazement, incredulity, admiration of Hale's gener- 
osity and virtuous self-denial, passed in quick procession 
over Stubbs's open countenance as he resolutely extended 
the roll to his friend. But Hale had thrust his hands 
into his trousers' pockets, and looked a decided negative M 
the other's attempts to make restoration. 

" Now, Stubbs, be reasonable," he remonstrated. 
" Let me have my way, like a good fellow. This money 
will carry you away from temptation, and you will have a 
chance to begin an honest life. I am determined to start 
just where I left off, and fight my way up single-handed. 
I ask and will receive no odds from the world. I can 
never feel myself a man again until I have worked myself 
unaided from the pit into which I deliberately plunged." 
Lines of grim resolution displayed themselves about his 
mouth as he spoke, but he ended with a light jest. " If 
I fail, then I can apply to you, and out of the small for- 
tune you will have amassed by that time down in New 
Mexico or Arizona, you can easily spare enough to help 
out an old friend." 

The good-natured fellow's irresponsible temperament 
blossomed into glad certainty at the mere suggestion. 

" By Jolly, that I will ! I'll take up some government 
land and stock it with sheep; it's the straight and aisy 
road to fortune. And you shall be my partner, Master 
Larry. Cracky! how we'll get on ! " 

The boat ran into a new slip, and all the surroundings 
were strange and unfamiliar. As the oddly assorted pair 
parted on the wharf, Stubbs laid his hand on Hale's arm 
with awkward affection. 

" I suppose it's no use talkin', Mr. Hale. But if you'd 
only make up your mind to kape clear of Her." 

" What? " Hale's thoughts had turned to prosaic sub- 
jects at that moment, and he was deciding in what direc- 
tion he would go for a bath and shave before presenting 
himself at home. 

"Her. The 'woman in the case.'" Stubbs's eyes 
twinkled as he recollected the abrupt terminus of their 
last discussion on the subject. 

" You need have no concern on that point, Stubbs. 
Our paths have parted forever. She wouldn't so much as 
look at me if I met her in the street; and there isn't the 
slightest chance of my seeing her, for she's over live thou- 
sand miles from here by this time." 

" Then you're safe ! " rejoined his companion, heartily, 
and turning on his heel, he disappeared in the great voi- 
tex of humanity which centered on lower Market street. 

The housebreaker's warning lingered in Hale's mind. 
The peril he had to apprehend was beyond Stubbs's com- 
prehension, and consisted in tht frailty of his own soul, 
which clung with unconquerab.e tenacity to an illusive 
dream, to hopes that all decency demanded should have 
been buried ten years ago. He had tried to forget her, 
tried to ignore the fact that any such woman ever existed; 
but occasional references in his mother's letters^ chance 



bits of newspaper gossip, and the treacherous weakness 
of his own heart, had kept her memory alive. But a 
short time previous to his release he had learned of her 
departure for Europe, in company with a party of tour- 

He trod the streets of the busy city, an exile returning 
to the place of his nativity after years of absence and sep- 
aration, but, alas! a miserable and dishonored exile; 
wearing no cross of honor or proud decorations pro- 
claiming sore penance valiantly undergone for his nation's 
sake, or heroic warfare in support of a noble principle; 
a man with lowered standard and despondent heart, de- 
prived of the dearest rights of citizenship through willful 
disregard of his country's honored laws — sorry spectacle, 
indeed, for the honest crowd! Of the few who recog- 
nized him none stopped to speak, but one man thought 
he read back of the sensitive, shrinking face a hidden 
force of resolve which might yet prove the criminal's 
redemption. Hale only observed the president of the 
bank he had robbed — a man who had once honored him 
with his implicit trust, who now passed him with a single 
cutting glance and a distant recognition. 

He struggled to free himself from oppressive recollec- 
tions, and to uproot all unhealthy sentiment from his 
mind. The world was still green and beautiful ; flowers 
of exquisite forms and hues flung their perfume along the 
dusty highway ; the voices of happy children echoed on 
every side ; the sun bathed all the earth in gladness, and 
the air was full of the subtle suggestion of renewed growth 
and vigor that follows the first rains of the season. Hope 
and faith still remained for the erring, and as for him, had 
he not one dear and faithful friend to cheer and bless 

But one thought should have domination in his mind 
that day. He was going home to his mother — his moth- 
er! whose love had never failed him during the long 
ordeal of sin and disgrace; who would welcome him 
with a brave face and consoling words, and who would 
rejoice in his successes, comfort him in discouragement, 
exult is his dearly won victories. He recalled the fabled 
story of Anta;us, whose strength increased a hundred 
fold at every contact with mother earth, and felt that his 
own courage would spring into new vitality when his 
eyes rested upon that dear face. One touch of her hand, 
her kiss upon his cheek, and the haunting sense of misery 
and loss would be stifled, and he would be a man once 
more, ready to do, to dare, and to suffer. 

There is no truth in the subtle undercurrent of 
foreboding which is fabled to presage impending sor- 
row. Laurence Hale's heart was lighter than it had 
been for years as he neared his home. He was at 
the gate before he observed that the unusual block- 
ade of vehicles in the street centered at his father's 
house. No suspicion of what awaited him forecast 
its shadow upon his path as he proceeded slowly up 
the graveled walk, looking about him in wondering 
inquiry. The porch and hall were crowded with people, 
many of whom were strangers. A man's voice within 
was lifted in exhortation. Some one stepped to his side 
and led him gently into the parlor. Beneath the arch 
that ran across the room stood a bier, draped with black 
cloth, and covered with flowers. 

Painfully, like one who learns the meaning of a strange 
language word by word, ignorant of its connection with 
what is past and unseeing what is to come, he crossed the 
room and stood behind the coffin. Still and unrespon- 
sive, the light of a heavenly peace on her worn features 
and pale brow, he saw his mother, cold and dead. 

The funeral was over, and father and son entered 
together their desolate home. 

" Father, for her sake ! " Laurence Hale could say no 
more, but he stretched out his hand in humble appeal. 
The eyes of the elder man were blinded by sorrow. He 
failed to see, or seeing, failed to read the meaning of the 
deeply-graven lines on the young man's face. He only 
remembered that the boy had been the one to bring dis- 
grace on an honored name, to drag down his own com- 
mercial credit, and to cloud his mother's life with sorrow. 
This mention of the dead stirred his smothering resent- 
ment to a low flame. 

" ' For her sake ! ' I have no intention of turning melo- 
dramatic, Laurence, of disowning you as my son, or of 
visiting upon you a father's curse. Crime itself entails a 
heavier curse than human lips can pronounce. But 
don't appeal to her memory. You broke her heart ten 
years ago. She never held up her head after that day. 
Had it not been for you she might have been alive and 
happy here to-day." 

The justice of these accusations sank deep into the 
soul of the younger man ; but ten years of rough school- 
ing among a hardened crowd had done their work, and 
he gave no outward sign of the misery that racked his 
being, nor could his tongue, long used to silence, express 
the bitter penitence he felt. 

The father, his hands clasped behind his back and his 
head bowed low upon his breast, paced up and down the 
room. The son stood motionless, his eyes fixed upon a 
faded portrait of his mother in her youthful days, which 
hung on the opposite wall. Following with painful in- 
tentness the resemblance between the fair young counte- 
nance and the aged face he had seen lying in the coffin, 

he scarcely observed that the elder man had again ap- 
proached him and prepared to resume the conversation. 

" I am going away, Laurence," he said. " Affairs have 
not prospered with me this last ten years. The house is 
mortgaged for more than half its value. Next week it 
passes from my hands, and with the little I shall have 
left I have decided to go up the coast to Seattle and try 
to get a foothold there. It will be better for Robert. 
The boy has had a hard struggle here ; it is not the best 
recommendation in the world for a young man to be 
known as a felon's brother." 

He waited as if he expected some word of self-defense 
or extenuation from the silent man before him, but none 
was forthcoming. 

" Your room up-stairs has always remained as you left 
it," he continued. " She wished it so. I would rather 
you took the things away before the rest of the house is 
disturbed. In a drawer of the dressing-case you will find 
a small sum she put by for your use." 

As if the effort of speaking so long had been more than 
his feeble strength could sustain, the gray-haired man 
sank wearily into an arm-chair, and pressed his thin 
hands over the old eyes, that were weak with weeping, 
and weary of life with its attendant train of misery and 

The returned convict looked at him a moment in 
irresolution, then turned and left him. With heavy 
heart and lagging step he traversed rooms whose very as- 
sociation was fraught with memories of forfeited happi- 
hess, and passed up the broad, old-fashioned staircase. 
He stood before the door of the little hall chamber he 
had called his own, as one lingers and procrastinates be- 
fore the chamber of death. The sound of a door (his 
brother's) shutting sharply on the opposite side of the 
hall, stimulated him to enter, and he went in, closing the 
door softly behind him. 

He stood in the presence of mute witnesses of blighted 
hopes and ruined aspirations. Around him were count- 
less mementos of his lost boyhood and wrecked man- 
hood. He sat down in a cushioned chair beside the 
window, whose gay patchwork covering was the work of 
hands forever still. On every side were tokens of her 
tender love. The embroidered slipper-case at the head 
of the bed, the fanciful slippers inside, the dressing gown 
on the hook above, the pretty mats on wash-stand and 
dressing-case, a rug at his feet— all were evidences of his 
mother's faithful care. 

Resting his elbows upon his knees, he buried his lace 
in his hands. Even in that hour of ;bitter retrospection, 
the stern discipline of his prison life was strong upon him, 
and he neither groaned nor wept. 

How long he remained there he could not have told. 
He rose at length, and moved slowly about the room, 
taking down little ornaments from the wall, opening 
drawers and putting some articles inside. He opened the 
door of a clothes-press, and took the key from the lock 
of a small trunk ; then lifted out a larger one and placed 
some articles of clothing inside, locked it, and pocketed 
the key. Evidences of his mother's forethought greeted 
him on every hand. The abundant store of fresh linen 
was redolent with the fragrance of sweet clover. Some 
needful additions had been made to his wardrobe, and 
all was in scrupulous order. In the drawer of a small desk 
at the side of the room he found the letters he had written 
to her, carefully preserved and tied with ribbon, along 
with a faded photograph taken in his boyhood. Ixmg 
afterward he learned that it had been one of her last acts 
to feebly climb the stairs and closet herself in his room. 

As he passed the dressing-case he picked up a small 
fan-shaped tablet with an ivory-headed pencil pendent 
from silken tassels. It was the dancing programme he 
had carried that last fatal night before his flight. A smile 
that was not good to see flickered about his lips as he ob- 
served the frequent repetition of the name "Margaret 
Thaxter," written in a round, girlish hand. Then he re- 
called his father's words, and, opening a small drawer, 
was surprised to see a roll of coin. Who, then, had sent 
that other sum that had been handed to him by the War- 
den in the morning? Standing there, engaged in deep 
speculation, he chanced to look up, and saw his own re- 
flection in the glass before him. The package dropped 
from his hands, the glittering coins struck the marble with 
a dull ring, and freeing themselves from their envelope, 
chased each other over the carpet. 

Mirrors were considered superfluous commodities at 
San Quentin. He looked upon his own image for the 
first time in ten years. 

Dumb with anguish, blinded with sorrow, he moved 
down the stairs, and was passing through the outer door 
when a low voice spoke his name, and he turned to find 
his father gravely regarding him, the sternness vanished 
from his features, and replaced by a look of wistful pain. 

" Don't think unkindly of my action, Larry. I am an 
old man, and my shoulders are none too strong to carry 
my own burdens. There was a time when I looked for- 
ward to leaning on my eldest son in my old age." 

His voice shook, and he stopped abruptly. Father and 
son sadly viewed each other across the barrier of years, 
recalling for the moment the old tender relation of love 
and confidence. 

"That is the hardest of all, father." 

" There, there, boy." 

He extended his hand and took his son's for a moment, 
in a close, warm grasp, but whatever the sentiment that 
agitated his heart, it remained unspoken. 

Laurence Hale walked slowly down the street, ponder- 
ing his situation. The sum of money in his pocket was 
sufficient to carry him to some distant point where he 
could start out in the world anew, and where no knowl- 
edge of his past life would follow to overcast his future. 
But his mind was firmly made up on one point. He had 
shown the white feather once, and for the last time. He 
would take up life where he had dropped it, and fight out 
the battle of existence on the same ground where he had 
once striven and lost. He realized that the odds against 
him were well nigh overwhelming, but they were of his 
own making. Persistent effort might yet undo past error. 

His first step was to secure a quiet room in a cheap 
quarter. He found the place he wanted, on a narrow 
street within a stone 's-throw of his old home. The house 
stood on the slope of a hill, and had valiantly resisted the 
attempts of street committees to reduce it to the level of 
the street, until it stood in solitary supremacy above its 
neighbors, and was only accessible by long flights of steps 
cut in the solid rock. The landlady was a feeble gentle- 
woman, whose failing fortunes had made it necessary to let 
apartments to eke out her declining income. And because 
the house was old-fashioned in its architecture, and reveled 
in sunshine and fresh air rather than statelinessand gloom, 
and because it stood on the side of a picturesque hill 
which wind and fog instinctively avoided, instead of tow- 
ering from the bleak summit of the western heights 
whither wealth and fashion had long since fled, the sched- 
ule of prices was on a commensurate scale. Hale found 
himself in possession of a cheery and comfortable room 
on the second floor, for which, unfurnished, he paid the 
modest sum of six dollars a month. 

When he had transported thither his 'simple belongings 
he lost no time in lamenting his unhappy fate or bemoan- 
ing his grief, but resolutely faced the situation. One 
steady purpose had entered his mind during the earlier 
days of his confinement, and had grown and strengthened 
with the years. It had survived the cruel test of scorn, 
the rankling scrutiny of unbelief. Even the dense coils 
of injustice had been impotent to stifle it. To accomplish 
his end he must have steady and paying occupation. 

If he thought with unavailing regret of the easy and 
lucrative post that had seemed to him so slight a thing in 
his mad folly ten years before, it never occurred to him 
to seek employment in his former field. He looked only 
to his trade for support. No other course presented 
seemed possible to him but to start -out in a new line, 
where industrious habits and manual skill would be their 
own best recommendations ; where no man would be re- 
quired to honor him with his confidence or risk aught by 
taking him into his employ. 

( To be continued.) 

Those who place any confidence in Bismarck's protests 
of indifference as to the Oriental question, will do well to 
mark the different phases of expression through which he 
passed until he secured Schleswig-Holstein for Prus- 
sia. At first he condemned the Schleswig-Holstein 
movement in indignant terms as revolutionary, and as 
long as he wanted to keep England in good humor at the 
time of the Polish insurrection, affected to speak of it as a 
marotte of Austria's and the little German states. He 
even offered to prevent the Federal execution in the 
Duchies, if Denmark would accept the mediation of 
England, and so get England to separate from France 
and decline the congress proposed by Napoleon III. He 
thus killed two birds with one stone, created a coldness 
between France and England, and got England to keep 
quiet on the Polish question. After this Bismarck had 
no objection to the Federal execution, and then occurred 
another of his astonishing strokes of good luck — the sud- 
den death of Frederic VII of Denmark, on November 15, 
i860, which gave a fresh impetus to the German longings 
for the Duchies. This event roused the Prussian Chan- 
cellor to incredible activity; he became all things to all 
men ; he cajoled England and France ; made use of the 
Bund as a cat's-paw, and then set it coolly aside ; over- 
awed the smaller states and suppressed the candidate of 
their choice ; got Austria to join him in a work of spolia- 
tion, and then framed a pretext for quarreling about the 
division of the spoil ana despoiling the spoiler. This 
was his first step toward enlarging the frontiers of Prussia. 
Dr. Busch himself lets us know what Bismarck thinks of 
this diplomatic campaign of his, and he has reason to 
be proud; for if Machiavelli and Frederick II were both 
to return to life they would declare that no statesman 
ever profited so much by their teaching and example. 
"He said to us at Varzin, in 1877 : 'That is the diplo- 
matic campaign of which I am proudest.' Baron von 
Holstein asked : ' You wanted the Duchies from the 
very beginning?' ' Yes,' replied the Prince, 'certainly I 
did, immediately after the King of Denmark's death. 
But it was a difficult job. Everybody was against me — 
several coteries at court, Austria, the petty German 
states, and the English who grudged us the harbor of 
Kiel. Crowds of the Liberals were opposed to it, who all 
of a sudden discovered that the rights of Princes were 
matters of importance — in reality, it was only their hatred 
and envy of me — and even tne Schleswig-Holsteiners 
themselves did not want it. I had to contend with all 
these, and I know not whom besides.'" — The Edinburgh 

The Milwaukee young man who swallowed a silver 
dollar is now on a good financial basis, and should be 
prepared to resume specie payment at any moment. 



elapses between each plucking), and is far superior in the 
quality of feathers, which are considered prime when the 
bird is two years old. In the Western District of Cape 
Colony, of which Outdshoorn is the center, the feathers 
are literally wrenched out in handfuls, which causes in- 
tense pain and profuse bleeding. A pillow-slip is drawn 
over their heads, which Kaffir boys hold in place on each 
side, while three or four others pull out the feathers from 
the wings and tails, with the downy feathers around the 
breast. The operation is only the work of a few minutes. 
The [>oor ostriches are rendered quite powerless by hav- 
ing their heads covered, and submit to the plucking with 
astonishing meekness. A more judicious method is pur- 
sued in the Eastern District inland from Port Elizabeth, 
of which Graham's Inn is the capital. Instead of wrench- 
ing the feathers out by sheer force, they are snipped 
within an inch of the body, by means of a small pair of 
pinchers. The ends of the quills drop out after a few 
weeks, and although it is a matter of longer handling, it 
prevents any rupture of the skin, as in plucking by hand. 
It has the advantage of producing finer quills in all after 
growths. A thick, strong quill not only adds to the 
weight of the feather, but detracts from its poise and 
graceful curve. A feather buyer can distinguish at a 
glance which plan has been pursued in plucking. If the 
feathers are not plucked in time, they deteriorate; the tips 
become worn and damaged by contact with hard sub- 
stances. Wing feathers of the male bird are pure white, 
and bring the highest price, while those of the female are 
tipped with black. The general appearance of the body 
feathers of the male is black; those of the female 

Weekly sales of feathers are held in all the leading 
towns of each district. The feathers are roughly assorted 
by the vender, and tied up in bundles, which are sold by 
weight. Buyers who represent European firms must pos- 
sess a practical knowledge of the demands of fashion, to- 
gether with a keen, discriminating insight when approxi- 
mating the value of each lot for the home market. This 
is their only guide when bidding against each other. Sev- 
eral venders at Massell Bay and Port Elizabeth have been 
" boycotted" for introducing the feathers of the Austra- 
lian emu into the center of bundles and selling them as 
first-class ostrich plumes. 

The leathers are not cleaned and dyed at the Cape, but 
merely assorted and picked over for foreign sale. In 
dressing, the stems are scraped with a piece of glass, so as 
to produce a more graceful curve, and the plufl is curled 
with a dull knife — which process requires considerable 
patience and dexterity, on account of the delicacy of the 
texture. The art of extracting the color from the feathers 
has of late years caused a downward tendency in prices, 
for when once bleached feathers can be dyed any color 

Mr. William H. Osborne, representing the Cleveland 
Electric Motor Company, of Cleveland, Ohio, gave an 
exhibition of the new inventions at the rooms of the Cali- 
fornia Electrical Works Company, 35 Market street, on 
Thursday, Friday and Saturday afternoons of last week. 
The resistance boards are so arranged that by having a 
wire to connect with the motor power there is sufficient 
force to run a sewing machine at any rate of speed that 
may be desired. The current is controlled by pressing 
on the treadle, and removed by withdrawing the pressu r e. 
For factories, the invention is of inestimable value, be- 
cause it is in the power of each operator to govern the 
speed of her machine; while for families it would be 
equally useful — running the sewing machine during the 
day and furnishing light at night. In New York a com- 
pany is in full operation, and several other cities are intro- 
ducing these motors. Every woman knows how injurious 
it is to health to run a sewing machine, and it is to be 
hoped Mr. Osborne will succeed in introducing his motors 
here. They will be a blessing to many poor women who 
have to sew for a living, and will save the health of many 
others who suffer from the effects of running sewing ma- 

feminine taste for adornment is not to be overcome, t \ 
by athletics, and more than one pair of Indian clubs ai 
jauntily tied with ribbon. They are swung in the regu- 
lation manner, however, and the girls pull chest-weights 
and swing on the flying rings with as much skill, and 
much less solemnity, than their brothers. They are a 
pretty sight, with their free, easy movements and their 
fresh color heightened by exercise, and are especially 
agreeable to the eye because of their infinite improve- 
ment upon the school girl of a decade ago. There still 
exist schools where, at fortniuhtly intervals, the pupils tie 
their sunbonnets on securely and,- under the care of 
several teachers, walk down to the entrance gate, walk 
back to the gardens, and in and out several times through 
the prim, box-bordered paths, and then walk into the 
house again. At the end of the year they are bleached 
like so many stalks of celery. It is the good work of the 
gymnasiums to displace such institutions. 

I. aces are taking on different attractions every day. 
At the Ville de Paris I saw some beautiful i famine cur- 
tains, made in the same style as cheese-cloth, with Egyp- 
tian and Fedora lace insertion and edging. Etamhu 
tidies with hem-stitched edges and bunches of (lowers em- 
broidered in various colored crewels, are new and very 
pretty. They are worth from sixty cents to one dollar 
each, but I fancy could be made at home for less money. 

Piece lace for dresses is becoming a leading fabric, 
and is shown in all the new styles of lace, in silk, wool 
and cotton. In silk the Escurial and Spanish are favor- 
ites, while in cotton and wool Fedora and Egyptian, and 
llama and yak, are to be had. Among narrow laces for 
trimming is some beautiful designs in mauresque lace. 
It not only shows oriental coloring, but has devices and 
flowers in clever imitation applique. These figures are 
outlined in colors with gilt intermixtures, and among cot- 
ton laces are quite irresistible. 

The new grenadines and buntings have a fine lace 
effect, and as they arc surprisingly cheap, there is no rea- 
son why a lacy looking dress may not be had for a small 

What a peculiar shape some of the new mantles have. 
I saw one on the street a few days ago that was made 
of black rhadame, and had "angel sleeves" laid in kilt 
plaits and fastened at the elbow with a band of passemen- 
terie. The sleeves and neck were edged with lace to 
match the body of the wrap. Some of them are all 
sleeves, and although stylish looking, I doubt if they are 

The combination costumes are very attractive this sea- 
son ; there is a marked harmony of colors, although 
striking contrasts are seen. Many of the pattern dresses 
shown are partly of plain blue, green, or brown material, 
with an accompanying portion of the exact shade of the 
plain, with figures of some contrasting color. In this 
form color is supplied in a small yet pleasing quantity. 
These are seen in soft light-weight woolen goods. Then 
plain browns with a complement of striped browns, are 
imported, and also manufactured in this country, for 
combination dresses. The regular street suit is considered 
more stylish if made in plain colored material, with either 
plain stitching, self-colored flat braid or cord. Many are 
seen made severely plain. The genuine tailor-made cos- 
tume is always plain; simplicity is its principal feature, 
together with a perfectly fitted shape. Many new dress 
patterns are offered with embroidered borders. Pongees, 
which are so durable, and always lady-like and cool, are 
provided with two widths of embroidery. This is usually 
in the same color, such as brown, red, or blue. In thin- 
ner fabrics, there are ecru batistes embroidered with 
white, ecru lawns embroidered the same, also white lawns 
and batistes. The India silks have taken a new depart- 
ure — from set figures to small floral designs. They arc 
very soft and light, and shape exquisitely. They preserve 
the combination idea, in that plain India silk is provided 
for the underskirt. F. E. W. 


Until a short time ago the ostrich was hunted and 
slaughtered for its feathers, which course was as fatal as 
killing the goose that laid the golden egg. The Dutch 
Boers were the first to attempt to domesticate the birds, 
'and when it was discovered that they could be reared 
profitably there was a boom in the industry, which has 
since proven detrimental to the those engaged. Feathers 
soon became, in exchange, equal to gold, and no mer- 
chant refused to advance goods or money on such se- 
curity. At home or abroad the absorbing topic was 
ostriches and their feathers. Many a Dutch fraulein 
owes her wedding trousseau to a good feather pluck- 
ing, and for the same reason her more staid mamma her 
journey to Cape Town, and not infrequently the dia- 
monds in her ears. Young and full grown ostriches are 
to be seen in inclosed paddocks facing the public thor- 
oughfares of the towns, adjacent to stores or private 
dwellings. They are viewed by the women from the 
standpoint of commercial value rather than from orna- 
mental considerations. In 1880 chicks were worth 5/. 
when a week old; at three months from 10/. to 12/., 
reckoning \l. per month until they were a year old; two 
to three years old, 30/. ; afterwards according to breed, 
condition and disposition to pair. Male birds are the 
most valuable, not only for their superior feathers, but 
because they frequently pair with two females. A good 
pair of breeding birds have often changed hands at 300/., 
which, when it is seen that the females lay from nine to 
fifteen eggs in each nest, and hatch them after setting 
forty-two days, is a good investment. In a short time 
after the chicks are hatched the female lays again, and in 
this way hatches several broods during the year. Both 
birds sit on the eggs, the male remaining longer than the 
female. Breeding birds are never plucked, and are sel- 
dom molested, as they are very fierce. It is necessary to 
feed them with mealies, barley and lucerne, as they are 
unable to pick up sufficient food when confined to an in- 
closure. If overfed, they are liable to break and eat their 
eggs. Young birds thrive on almost any kind of meal, 
and green food consisting of the prickly pear chopped 
fine; they also require a supply of silicates, nitrates and 
ground bones. Wood ashes are used in freeing them from 
vermin. Ostriches drink little, but are voracious eaters 
and indomitable digesters. Brass buttons, scraps of rusty 
iron, carpenter's tools, however keen their edges, are soon 
assimilated. What an acquisition such an apparatus 
would be to the pleasures of a gourmand or bon vivant! 
Ostriches are often subject to stoppages in the intestines, 
owing, I presume, to their propensity to swallow every 
piece of bright metal they see. Birds in this condition 
are unable to stand, but are speedily relieved by a dose 
of croton oil. They are predisposed to tape-worm, which 
disease, if not promptly checked, is liable to kill young 
birds. The remedy most in use is the oil of male fern. 

Artificial hatching is carried on extensively by means 
of incubators. Chicks hatched in this way are subject 
to atmospheric changes, and from a health point are not 
reliable until three months old; dealers object to them 
for this reason. Young birds require close watching, be- 
cause of their pertinacity in swallowing anything and 
everything, showing a decided partiality for a species of 
wild tobacco plant, which is a deadly poison. 

The soil necessary for ostriches must contain the nat- 
ural salts which are essential to their growth and well- 
being. The Zaid veldt and Zaur veldt are not alike fit 
for ostrich farming. Very many tracts of land on the 
Karoo are only fit for sheep, on account of being desti- 
tute of the salts of potash and soda. Stock birds are 
either herded on the open veldt by Kaffir boys, or pad- 
docked in runs enclosed by a wire fence, thus obviating 
the necessity of herding. A general supervision around 
the run once or twice a day is all that is necessary, with 
an occasional feed of lucerne, mealies, etc. It requires 
considerable tact and experience to manage ostriches 
while driving them in flocks through the country. In the 
event of anything frightening them a general stampede 
follows, which means scouring the country, perhaps for 
miles around, before getting them together again. It 
frequently happens that birds are missed for weeks in 
this way. To distinguish stray birds it is absolutely neces- 
sary to brand them on the fleshy part of the thigh. 
Birds are frequently farmed on the joint-share system, 
which is quite remunerative to both parties. 

The Cape government has imposed a heavy penalty 
for killing ostriches, so it is only lawful to take the eggs of 
wild birds. These are sometimes served up in the shape 
of an omelet, one egg being quite sufficient for three or 
four persons, but the dish is strong and rank. Ostriches 
are very fleet of foot, and when seen in their wild state, 
fleeing across the Karoo, present an impressive and in- 
spiring picture. The weakest part of the ostrich is the 
flat surface on the top of the head ; a slight blow aimed at 
that spot is sufficient to put an end to its career The 
bird kicks in a very vicious manner, and if the blow is 
received while standing in front, it very often terminates 

The first plucking takes place when the bird is ten 
months old, the product of which is called " chicken pens," 
and is comparatively valueless. The second plucking 
comes off seven months after (a period of seven months 

There is any quantity of new dress goods in the mar- 
ket, all shipped from old manufacturing centers, but 
Keane Bros, still have the courage to patronize home 
manufacture. They persistently show California silk, 
and are right in declaring the San Jose silk the best two- 
dollar black gros grain in the market. Mr. Keane and 
his salesmen are just as enthusiastic over it as when it 
first came out, and they deserve great credit for their 
patriotism and enterprise. The encouragement a first- 
class house can give a manufacture by handling and en- 
dorsing it, is not to be underestimated. It is a pity 
other firms have not equal local pride. 

The first thing that impresses a visitor to a woman's 
gymnasium is its air of cheerfulness. Evidently it is a 
region where no one breaks records, and whose occu- 
pants disport themselves with a mind and body equally at 
ease. The effect of the gymnastic suits is rather nonde- 
script, and the spectator is at first considerably startled by 
boyish figures in blouse waists and Turkish trousers, sur- 
mounted by feminine hair dressing. The incongruity is 
heightened by an active gymnast with ruffles in her 
sleeves, and bangles on her well developed wrists. The 

Governor Francis E. Warren, of Wyoming, says: 
" From my experience and observation, I am compelled 
to say, in justice to the women of Wyoming, that woman 
suffrage has not ' lowered the grade of public officials ' in 
that territory. On the contrary, our women consider 
much more carefully than our men the character of can- 
didates, and both political parties have found themselves 
obliged to nominate their best men in order to obtain the 
support of the women. As a business man, as a city, 
county, and territorial officer, and now as Governor of 
Wyoming territory, I have seen much of the workings of 
woman suffrage, but I have yet to hear of the first case of 
domestic discord growing out of it. Our women nearly 
all vote, and since in Wyoming, as elsewhere, the major- 
ity is good and not bad, the result is good and not evil. 
VVhile I had no hand in passing the act which gave to 
women this privilege, I must acknowledge its success 
after fifteen years' trial, and I will add that no attempt to 
repeal the law has been made for ten years, and none, I 
believe, is contemplated, for the practical workings of 
woman suffrage commend it more and more to favor 
among the men and women, as they understand it better 
and know more of its fruits." 

The most popular opera bouffe singer in Paris at the 
present time is named Silly, and she is said to be the real 
successor of Schneider. 



It is almost always painfully disappointing to read 
biography as it is now written. Few of those " who lift 
their heads above the crowd " are able to withstand that 
fierce light of curiosity which beats upon them, exposing 
every little weakness and imperfection of character to 
public view. No matter how carefully a friendly biog- 
rapher may endeavor to exalt his hero, striving always to 
extol his virtues and palliate his shortcomings, the fact 
that every little detail of private life is dragged forth into 
the open light of day, will too often make all such efforts 
entirely futile. Some passage from a friendly letter, some 
entry in a daily -journal, or some insignificant incident of 
everyday life, will be sufficient to overthrow any number 
of finespun theories. Let a man's genius be ever so 
exalted, his public life ever so brilliant, the fact that to 
err is human is a satisfactory explanation of the contrast 
too often felt between the outward and inward manifesta- 
tions of his character. All the peeping and prying about 
the house of life of some notable individual, searching 
every nook and cranny in order to reveal some ghastly 
skeleton safely stowed away, so characteristic of the pres- 
ent time, generally results in such disclosures as are sure 
to destroy our reverence, often even our respect, for those 
whom our fancy has exalted into heroes. The Rambler 
remembers how in his early youth he looked upon the 
great Napoleon as a grand demigod; now the particulars 
which come uppermost in his mind regarding the world's 
conqueror are that he was fond of liver and onions, and 
that he was a domineering bully in his conduct toward 
his family and servants. 

The Rambler has no wish to dwell on this subject in a 
general way. as he is aware that it is without the charm 
of novelty. Indeed, he remembers seeing some witty 
remarks in such a connection in a recent number of The 
San Franciscan; but the effect of the revelations found 
in late books of biography is alluded to here in connec- 
tion with the very great contrast usually noticed between 
our ideal of some noted character and the reality. 

We can all recall the impression produced on the 
public by the publication of Foster's Life and Letters of 
Charles Dickens. Wonder was excited that a man whose 
writings were so full of lofty sentiment and genuine 
philantrophy, should exhibit in private life so much 
selfishness, narrowness, and petty vanity. It is safe to 
say that few who read that life could ever thereafter take 
the same delight in Dickens's books as they had previ- 
ously felt. They would always feel as though there was 
an affectation in the bonhomie he professed ; yet such a 
suspicion is probably unjust, as one side of his character 
was doubtless as real as the other. Later we know the 
sensation caused by the publication of the bitter person- 
alities, and unjust reflections found in the memoirs of 
Harriot Martincau and Carlyle; then the unfortunate 
revelations of the latter's domestic life, which have 
attracted so wide and profound an interest. 

It will occasionally happen that the showing up of 
the domestic side of a public character will make a 
pleasant instead of a disagreeable impression. This 
was the case with Thackeray, the genial side of whose 
character, as shown in the many incidents related since 
his death, proving his kindness of heart and real gen- 
erosity of feeling, has done much to soften the effect of 
the biting satire which is the most prominent character- 
istic of his works. So with George Eliot. The modesty 
of her estimate of her own genius, and the care she took, 
even in her most confidential letters and journals, to 
avoid any little reflection or harsh judgment of those 
about her, cannot but awaken in the readers of her 
biography sentiments of respect for her judgment and 
her heart. It behooves the man or woman who, in the 
present age, would win repute in any line of work, 10 have 
a care how he or she scatters broadcast a troublesome 
brood in the shape of hasty utterances, which are always 
sure to come home to roost. 

That very spiteful but occasionally clever woman 
Lady Bulwer, whose bitter hatred for her illustrious hus- 
band is well known, once remarked with regard to him, 
that she knew he had no heart, but had always given him 
credit for having a brain, which to the man of the world 
will often serve as a very good substitute. The publica- 
tion of his love letters addressed to her would, however, 
suggest to the reader the probability that at the time they 
were written he possessed much more of the former than 
the latter. This is mentioned with a view of asking the 
question why writers who are able to imagine their char- 
acters as always doing heroic, wise, and noble actions, 
should be unable to make their own lives conform to the 
rules they laid down for others. Why should a man 
whose writings are full of fine feeling, delicate sentiment, 
generous ardor, be in his family life gross, morose, full of 
selfishness and beastliness? There are such anomalies 
not a few; yet because the private life of a writer does not 
correspond with the teachings of his works, is no sign 
that we should reject the good he has to offer. It is per- 
haps an encouraging thing, as far as it goes, that bad men 
of intellect seldom inculcate bad morality. It is a pitiable 
thing to think of Bacon, " the greatest, wisest, meanest of 
mankind"; of Voltaire, who called himself a philosopher 
(a miserable old man full of petty vanity, jealousy, 
hatred and deceit), yet whose genius and advocacy of the 

rights of humanity made the French people of his day 
reverence him as a demigod ; or of Rousseau, whose pri- 
vate life, if we may believe reports which have come 
down to us, was stained with unmentionable vices, but 
whose voice seemed often to speak to men with the 
tongue of angels. Still, since all these erring men were 
able to give the world some grand and inspiring thoughts, 
is it not well that we should forget their failings, and yield 
ourselves to the dictates of their wisdom? On this head 
some pertinent remarks are found in a private letter writ- 
ten by George Eliot to a friend, before she had become 
known to fame, in which she says: 

I wish you to thoroughly understand that the writers who 
have most profoundly influenced me — who have rolled away the 
waters from their bed, raised new mountains and spread de- 
licious valleys for me — arc not in the least oracles to me. It is 
just possible that I may not embrace one of their opinions, that 
I may wish my life shaped quite differently from theirs. For in- 
stance, it would signify nothing to me if a very wise person were 
to stun me with proofs that Rousseau's views of life, religion 
and government are miserably erroneous ; that he was guilty of 
some of the worst bassesset that have degraded civilized man. I 
might admit all this, and it would be not the less true that 
Rousseau's genius has sent that electric thrill through my in- 
tellectual and moral frame which has awakened me to new 
preceptions, which has made man and nature a fresh world of 
thought and feeling to me, and this not by teaching me any new 

Those ready writers who boast of being able to scratch 
off reams of more or less slovenly constructed prose or 
verse, like Sir Roger de Coverly, with their gloves on, 
ought to find lessons of wisdom in the record of the labors 
of the really great minds of literature. It is said of Dick- 
ens, that when writing one of his Christmas stories he 
would lock himself up in his study for weeks, and come 
out looking haggard as a murderer. Victor Hugo wrote 
the last chapters of Tlie Hunchback of Notre Dame 
wrapped up in a blanket, with his clothes locked up, so 
that he might not be driven away from his work by his 
sense of hopeless despair. All George Eliot's works were 
written in fear and trembling, and with a travail of spirit 
which was a source of the most intense mental and bodily 
suffering. Speaking of her Romola, she once remarked 
to her husband — Mr. Cross— that she commenced it a 
young woman, and finished it an old one. Nearly the 
same experience would doubtless be related of almost any 
work, in whatever line, which contains really precious 
thoughts and is constructed with a lofty purpose. True 
success in literature, as well as any other art, is only to be 
won through hard, persevering, painstaking labor; and 
the reward lies in the truth of the dictum of Emerson — 

Whatsoe'er is excellent, 
As God lives, is permanent. 
J. D. S. 


There is no inquiry which possesses such an intense 
fascination for the Western mind as this : " If a man die, 
shall he live again?" I say for the Western mind, for 
there is an enormous difference between human hopes, 
aspirations and desires, in this particular, in the Orient 
and in the Occident. It is distinctively characteristic of 
the truly Oriental type of" mind that it looks upon life as 
"that disease called living." Its earnest hope is to 
escape, to shake off, individuality. Self-consciousness 
and individuality are deemed a curse, and that system of 
philosophy which teaches him that individuality will be 
eventually lost, consolidated with the infinite, enchants 
the Oriental. In other words, over half the human race 
consider the idea of personal immortality as a baneful 
one, and the absorption of their own by the Infinite Mind 
as a blessed state which tired and stricken humanity 
should strive and sigh and pray for. The spirit which is 
given to man is considered a small loan from the bank of 
infinite nature — from the Soul of the Universe — and the 
sooner it returns to the bosom of the eternal rest, its 
natural home, its native air, the better. Let it coalesce 
again with the ocean of spirit, and the finite be swallowed 
up in infinity. The only torturing thoughts and fears 
that the Oriental has in this regard are, that he may 
possibly be mistaken, and that the blessed boon of 
absorption may be denied. 

It may be asked, if these men thus think and feel, why 
do they not take their own lives at once, and fall asleep, 
like tired children, upon the bosom of Mother Nature? 
Just for fear that in this manner they might put them- 
selves out of harmony with their environment to such an 
extent as to miss the glorious state reserved for them. 
Man must be meek and enduring, he must take up and 
bear with such equanimity as he may the heavy burden of 
life, hopeful, and waiting for the summons, when it may 
properly come, to eternal rest. 

Would it be possible for created beings to diverge more 
widely upon any conceivable theme than do these people 
and ourselves? The hope, the prayer, of us of the West 
is that we may live again ; absorption in the infinite is 
little less repulsive than annihilation. Upon neither can 
Western man look with patience. When we lay our dead 
away to rest, we say to the dismal threnody of falling 
clods upon the coffin lid, " When shall it please God that 
we meet again?" Shall we think that human nature is 
so different under the skies of Asia? that family ties are 
less dear, that the bonds of affection are less tender, and 
that the unwilling gazers upon dead faces look with com- 
placency upon eternal separation? It would dishonor the 

tie which makes us all akin — the bond of our common 
humanity — to think that human nature is less human there 
than here. 

It all depends upon the point of view. If individual, 
segregated existence be deemed a curse, and life as an 
almost intolerable disease, the sun-browned dweller upon 
the banks of the Ganges, or by the Himalayas, thinks, 
not with aversion, but rather with delight, upon his loved 
ones passing over, one by one, to " that dim and distant 
Aidenn," that sweet land of dreams, of peace and rest, 
where all shall be in true harmony with the universe, and 
eternally at rest. It is a lot which he covets for them and 
for himself. But our philosophy teaches that existence is 
a boon ; our intense, practical and active nature shrinks 
from death and nothingness as from a hideous dream. 
The objective character of our minds leads us to desire a 
continuance of those mighty activities which are the very 
breath of our nostrils, the life of our soul. There are 
Alps yet to cross, sciences to be developed, the physical 
universe to be explored and overcome, and much, oh, in- 
finitely much, for us yet to do ; and the time is, alas! how 
short! It will not suffice for us, and we may lay the bur- 
den of our intensity and mighty industry upon those who 
come after us. The Oriental says that that is not civil- 
ization; it is merely noise, hurly-burly and barbarism. 
If he stand within our busy streets, he looks about and 
sadly wonders if the melancholy denizens of Bedlam have 
encamped there; and then he sheds a tear of sympathy 
and of pity over the sad lot of those who have so nearly 
if not entirely gone mad — over the insane and feverish 
activity of those who have lost the serene sway of reason. 
To one whom he might love, he would say : " Come, oh, 
come with me to a land where civilization truly reigns; 
come with me to the cloisters of the Himalayas or of 
Thibet, where dwell a class of men upon whose brows 
divine reason sits enthroned — calm, philosophical, con- 
templative. There, there alone, my friend, is man the 
godlike creature who has fulfilled his destiny and placed 
himself in harmony with the universe. Come with me to 
the grassy dells, the broad and majestic rivers, and the 
tropical seas of ' Far Cathay,' and there you shall see men 
who ponder perpetually upon the dread problems of life 
and death, individuality and absorption in the infinite, 
the wisest employment for that being who has had the 
curse of existence thrust upon him — away, away from the 
hideous turmoil and feverish activities of the barbaric 
West." And who is there, without greater wisdom than 
falls to the lot of mortals, who can unhesitatingly say 
that his ideas of what constitutes true civilization are not 
wiser than ours? 

We occupy the singular position of Western men with 
an Oriental religion. Every religion has had its origin in 
the East. Christ was a true Oriental of the highest and 
most exalted type — that type which finds its greatest joy 
in going about and adding to the sum of happiness in 
this sin-stricken world. The life of Buddha teaches the 
same lesson, as does that of his greatest and best 
devotees, and of a large class of others whose objects 
are the same. The aim of both was to place men in 
harmony with nature and with the universe, to bring 
them happiness and eternal peace. That is unquestion- 
ably the fundamental idea underlying the Christian re- 
ligion, but we fiery Westerners have changed it to suit 
our wild Germanic genius, and have engrafted upon it 
such theories and additions as are adapted to our way of 
thinking, but not to the original nature of the system. 
In the fact that the religion suits us lies the explanation 
why it does not suit the East. The genius of the races is 
entirely different. 

A typical Oriental stood within our borders a few days 
ago, and said: "We hate your bloody and barbarous 
religion, and all its ministers and missionaries." It ought 
to be perfectly plain that oil and water cannot mix. If 
that religion which we have molded over to suit our 
wants, had retained its originally genuine Oriental char- 
acter, it would to-day be just as welcome in the East as 
it is universal in the West. It is a religion which was 
heralded into existence by the essentially Oriental angelic 
song of " Peace on earth, good will to men." 

And what did we wood-chopping, ship-building, bear- 
slaying, bull-fighting, prize-fighting Occidentals do with 
such a religion as that? We turned it into a sanguinary 
creed — one of force and fury — and deluged all the fair 
West with blood. While the people of the West were 
trying to enforce religious uniformity with fire and sword, 
what was the state of the East? Take, for example, the 
Zoroastrian, or Gheber on the Plains of Iran. " He 
held that his religion was weakened by those who pro- 
fessed it with their lips but did not aid it with their good 
works ; and he welcomed as his ally in the struggle with 
the powers of evil, the man whose words condemned his 
(the Gheber's) faith, but whose deeds were just and 

Verily, verily, it is well sometimes to change the point 
of view. Inherited tendencies and beliefs are strong, 
but if one will look the broad world over he w ill find that 
the wisdom of the ages, and the only feasible methods of 
thinking, are not entirely included within the boundaries 
of Chicago, or the city and county limits of San Fran- 
cisco. Adley H. Cummins. 

High living has just killed^, circus giraffe. 




■In the Tennessee Mountains, by Charles Egbert Crad- 
dock, is a collection of short stories which were first pub- 
lished in the Atlantic. They deal with the peculiar 
phases of life in the Tennessee mountains, and are 
wonderfully truthful in situation and dialect. Any one 
familiar with southern life will readily recognize the word 
pictures the author has painted in such terse, vigorous 
style. The descriptions of mountain scenery are vivid, 
and indicate a deep love of nature. Since it has been 
made known that Charles Egbert Craddock is Miss Mary 
N. Murfree, of St. Louis, there has been an increased 
demand for her writings. Miss Murfree has struck a new 
vein in literature, and bids fair to become the Bret Harte 
of Tennessee. In time she will probably have many 
imitators, as Mr. Harte has had, but her writings will ever 
be a bright' page in American fiction. If there is any 
fault to find with Miss Murfree, it is that she falls into 
descriptive too often, and makes all her characters con- 
template the beautiful landscape. The fault is very par- 
donable, inasmuch as Miss Murfree makes her pictures so 
vivid one almost feels the cool atmosphere, and sees the 
dark gorges and blue mountain mists. The names of her 
stories take on the same flavor, and are strange and weird, 
as is their treatment. In Hie Tennessee Mountains is 
handsomely bound, and typographically neat and attract- 
ive. Published by Houghton, Mifflin & Company, 
Boston. For sale by A. L. Bancroft & Company. 

Pilot Fortune, by Marion C. L. Reeves and Emily 
Read, is a story of life among the fishermen of Nova 
Scotia. There is nothing new in plot or treatment, but 
there is a subtle shading and portrayal of human nature 
which makes the story very fascinating. There are two 
heroes, but the fisherman, Stephen Ferguson, has much 
the nobler nature, although lacking the polish of his rival, 
Urquhart. There is a great deal of bright dialogue; 
indeed, the finer parts of the story are told almost wholly 
in conversation. Long discriptions are thus avoided. 
The characters are sufficiently human to have glaring 
faults as well as good traits. The book is published by 
Houghton, Mifflin & Company, Boston, and is for sale 
by A. L. Bancroft it Company. 

Land by the Sunset Sea, and other poems, by Hannah 
B. Gage, is a neat little volume from the press of Philip 
I. Figel & Company, San Francisco. The poem from 
which the book is named is smooth and beautiful, and 
breathes a patriotic sentiment which indicates the 
nativity of the author. Miss Gage not only knows how 
to write in the poetic vein, but the romancer's fancy for 
story-telling crops out through the rhythm. This is 
shown clearly in " Only Friends" and "Jack Thornton's 
Mistake." The latter is termed a novel in verse, but the 
former is the best story of the two, although it is classed 
among the lyrics. Another admirable faculty possessed 
by Miss Gage is directness. In "Only Friends," each 
line tells so much, and there is scarcely a word that 
could be spared from a prose rendering. The first four 
lines contain all the description given of the friends, but 
that is quite sufficient : 

A manly fellow, straight and tall — 
A wee. Drown maiden, dainty, small; 
Two eyes of gray, two eyes of brown — ■ 
Gray eyes in dark-brown eyes look down. 

That the hero is taking leave of the lady is told in two 

She laughs, he smiles, and then hands meet; 
A nod, "Good-bye," he's down the street. 

When each is rallied by friends on the true relation to 
the other, and is accused of being more than a friend, 
there is a fine play of humor in the manner of telling what 
has been said : 

'* O Ned ! the queerest news 

1 heard to-day from Clara Dawes!" 

" Not half so funny, Min, as I 

Was told to-day by Franklyn Nye." 

'"Wait, Ned; let me tell first," she said. 

"Dear me! you'd never guess it, Ned," 

She said. "Oh, dear! those stupid boors ! 

I guess I'll tell mine last. Tell yours." 

"Well, Mill, Frank Nye was trying to chaff 

About — by Jove, it made me laugh ! — 

About, you know — say, Mirr, can't you 

Tell yours first? Now, how'll that'do?" 

"Oh, never mind— 'tis best unsaid. 

You wouldn't care to hear it, Ned." 

"Oh, yes, I would. Hut I'll tell first 

My news. Prepare, Min, for the worst! 

Well, here it is: He said — Frank Nye — 

That we were 'spoony,' you and I.'' 

"O Ned, how strange! Why, that's what she — 

I mean Miss Clara — told to me." 

"No, Min. Byjove! the deuce it is ! 

So her news was the same as his! 

What boshj Enough of this. I've come 

To tell you I shall soon leave home, 

To stay a year — most likely two. 

I say, what makes you look so blue? 

Tears. Min? Goou gracious ! what's up now? 

Com , tell a fellow what's the row." 

" I — I — 'tis nothing — truly — Ned ; 

But, don't go; stay at home instead." 

Two flushed, red cneeks, two dark-brown eyes — 

Two gray eyes opened in surprise. 

The gray eyes meet the eyes of brown ; 

The brown eyes droop their lashes down. 

A pause, ana then a whistle low: 

"By George! Well, Min, I didn't know " 

But something cut the sentence short — 
Two pouting Tips tried to retort ; 
The manly hps refused the quest. 
I'll leave you now to guess the rest. 

There are poems of a thoughtful nature, and some 

whose meter is harsh, and which prudence should have 
withheld from the public. There is both strength and 
weakness in the volume, but the good things outweigh the 
poor ones, and, on the whole, the little book is a happy j 
addition to Pacific coast literature. For sale by C. 
Beach, Montgomery street. 

The June Atlantic comes with its old favorites, and a 
fair sprinkling of new life, which makes it an esjiecially 
attractive number. Oliver Wendell Holmes contributes 
two chapters of his " New Portfolio," and there arc inter- 
esting chapters of the serials by Charles Egbert Craddock, 
Mrs. Oliphant, and Sarah Orne Jewett. Among essays, 
"Six Months at Astrakan," by Edmund Noble, is per- 
haps the must interesting. The subject is cleverly treated, 
and is free from that bias which is apt to be shown by 
Englishmen in writing of Russia. The Contributers' 
Club and book reviews are exhaustive and complete, and 
there is the usual amount of good poetry. 

Arlo Bates has a new novel nearly ready for the press. 
Daudet says his wife despises novels, including his own. 
She dotes on metaphysics. 

The combined talent of Mr. James Jeffrey Roche and 
Mr. O. Herford produced a very interesting and amusing 
illustrated poem in last week's life. 

Down the Ravine, the new children's story, by Charles 
Egbert Craddock, will appear this month from the house 
of Houghton, Mifflin & Company. It is to have six 
full-page illustrations. 

The exquisite hymn, " Nearer My God to Thee," was 
written by Mrs. Sarah F. Adams, an English Unitarian; 
but a proposition to tinker the words into a recognition 
of the Trinitarian doctrine is not likely to meet with gen- 
eral favor. 

When Fred Douglass fled from slavery he had in his 
little bundle an old music book called The Seraph, or 
Baltimore Collection of Church Music. He has if still, 
and while his wife plays some of its airs on the piano, he 
accompanies her on the violin. 

Frank R. Stockton, of Philadelphia, a brother of the 
late J. D. Stockton, and who has considerable reputation 
as a magazine writer, has in the May St. Nicholas an 
amusing sketch of " The Tricycle of the Future." What 
he writes of so humorously may in time be a fact. 

Howells is an Ohioan, of Welsh and Pennsylvania 
German extraction, and is in his forty-ninth year. He 
is a practical printer, and though he had no regular 
education, is one of the purest and most graceful writers 
of English on either side of the sea. Mrs. Howells is a 
sister of Larkin G. Mead, the sculptor. 

Prince William, the eldest son of the Crown P»ince of 
Germany, has written a book on The Wars of Cesar in 
the Light of Modern Strategy. Among Queen Victoria's 
relatives who are authors are the Imperial Crown 
Princess of Germany, the Duke of Edinburgh (who has 
written poems), the Princes Albert Victor and George of 
Wales, Prince William of Prussia, the Princess Christian 
of Schleswig-Holstein, and the Princess Louise. 

A small but important book will be issued in a few 
days by Houghton, Mifflin & Company entitled The Rus- 
sian Revolt, written by Mr. Edmund Noble, of London. 
It gives the origin and history of the revolt which is now 
known as Nihilism, and is based on ten years' careful 
study of Russian subjects, and two years' travel and resi- 
dence in Russia. One chapter treats of the relation of 
the revolt to Europe, and is therefore peculiarly timely 
just now. 

A house cannot be kept for many generations in one 
family in this country. James Fennimore Cooper's 
house was burned a year ago, and the growth of Coopers- 
town has led to the opening of a street through the 
grounds. William Cullen Bryant's residence at Roslyn 
is now abandoned by the family; and Idlewild, Nathan- 
iel Parker Willis's country scat on the Hudson, is now, 
for a second time, offered for sale. Bayard Taylor's farm 
at Cedar ■ Croft has been sold, and the proceeds are 
almost all the family has for its support. 

Some of the ablest literature of the day is devoted to 
the woman question in its various phases. A valuable 
contribution will be a volume (soon to be issued by 
Jansen, McClurg <\; Company, Chicago) containing two 
essays by Mrs. Helen Ekin Starrett and her sister, Mrs. 
Francis Ekin Allison, on "The Future of Educated 
Women," and " Men, Women and Money." Mrs. 
Allison is the author of several thoughtful papers on so- 
cial and domestic questions. Of Mrs. Starrett's essay, 
named above, Frances Power Cobbc wrote : " It is one 
of the wisest and truest utterances I have read on the 
woman question." 

Lord Tennyson is very seldom seen in any section of 
London society. When he leaves his country retreat, he 
takes a house in the Belgravian quarter, entertains men of 
such eminence as the Prime Minister and the Lord 
Chancellor, and occasionally honors afternoon recep- 
tions in Mayfair. Mr. Browning, on the other hand, is 
an altogether different person. He lives for society, and 
in society. If he cannot be seen at the house of the great, 
he is satisfied to he seen at the establishment of the small ; 
but he must be in evidence. He is an agreeable man, 

full of anecdote accommodated to his audience, profound 
or superficial, light or serious, literary, scientific, poi 
historical, or what you will. He is more than a septua 
nanan, yet he enjoys the mild distractions of the tni 
commonplace drawing-rooms with the unsophisticated 
freshness of early youth. He has the vanity, character- 
istic as irritability itself, of the race of bards. His ven- 
erable fascinations arc, as he piques himself on believing, 
irresistible by ladies of all ages and degrees. 

A New England admirer of George W. Cable, and one 
who by a protracted residence in New Orleans is prepared 
to vouch for the entire fidelity of his wonderfully graphic 
pictures of Creole life, ventured in a letter to the southern 
novelist to express his surprise that a Creole could paint 
Creoles so near to the life, and also to express the hope 
that he might not become a social martyr to his photo- 
graphic truthfulness of statement. In reply, Mr. Cable 
wrote: "I have your flattering letter of the 25th ult. 
I wish that opportunity were such that I might converse 
with you on your exigences in New Orleans between 
1862 and 1866. It is a time of which I am sometimes 
tempted to write, but as yet have refrained. I am not a 
Creole, though a native of New Orleans. My mother 
was from Indiana, of New England descent, and my 
father a Virginian. The Creoles are people among whom 
I have many good friends, and I am better known and 
more socially intimate among them now than before I 
ever wrote. If I have received any coldness of regard in 
New Orleans it has been almost invariably owing to the 
fact that I have always been so busy as to be sadly negli- 
gent of social amenities, and have failed to move much 
in social circles by pure dead weight of preoccupation. I 
am very proud of the esteem in which I am held in my 
native town. Vours truly, G. W. Cable." 



The June roses covered the hedges with blushes, 
Arid wooed with their perfume the murmuring bee; 

And white were the cups of the odorous lilies, 
When fate stole the joy of existence from me. 

With hands closely clasped, and with lips pressed together. 

One instant we stood, while the heart in my breast 
Leapt eager and wild, as the callow brids flutter 

When the wing of the mother sweeps over the nest. 

One star is the type of the glory of heaven ; 

A shell from the beach whispers still of the sec; 
To a rose all the sweetness of summer is given; 

A kiss tells what living and loving might lie. 

Mary Louise Ritler. 


The death of the Marquis of Cholmondclov reminds 
me once more of the odd manner in which English proper 
names are pronounced, to the bewilderment of Ameri- 
cans. Lord Cholmondelev's name, for instance, is always 
pronounced, except by vulgar people, " Cbumly." Such 
things in this country constitute the shibboleth of real 
society, and the slightest blunder is visited by that ostra- 
cism which is worse than death — at least to fashionably 
regulated minds. The great charm to this conventional 
pronunciation is that it cannot be learned by "cads," as 
persons " not in it," that is to say, the bulk of the nation, 
are called. These unfortunate millions arc in the posi- 
tion of those whose "speech hetrayeth them." Thus 
there is a place in Wales called Abergavenny, pronounced 
on the spot as it is spelt. But if any human bring in 
society spoke of Lord Abergavenny otherwise than as 
Lord "Aberghenny," he would be stared at as only an 
English grande dame " born in the purple" can stare. 
Again, the Duke of Rutland's place, Belvoir. must be 
called " Bcever," Lord Spencer's house not Althorn but 
"Olltrop," Marjoribanks is " Marchbanks, St. John is 
"Singeon," Bcauchamp is " Beccham." Snumin.inv is 
" Summery," St. ('lair is Sinclair," Lord I Vrbv is " Dar- 
by," Lord Hotham is " Huttham " ; and all the Dalziels 
or Dalyells pronounce their name " D. L.," as if it con- 
sisted of those two letters only. There arc, I believe, 
common people named Dalziel who pronounce their 
name as it is spelt, but they arc of very slight importance. 
Glamis, also, where Duncan is supposed to have been 
murdered by the amiable Macbeth family, must only be 
pronounced " Glahms," and as this is the title of the heir 
apparent to the Strathmore peerage, it is important to 
know the exact inflection. Lady Willoughby d'F.resby, 
whose son, Lord Aveland, is, through her, one of the 
hereditary grand chamberlains of England, has also an 
awkward name. "Lady Durrsby"is the accepted pro- 
nunciation, although T have heard fairlv decent people 
call her "I)c Resby." The Haroness Hurdett-f 'outts's 
name is also queerly pronounced by the million whom 
she has in her large benevolence so greatly helped. They 
call her BurdVtf, with the accent on the Inst syllable, 
whereas the family pronunciation is /Jwrrlett. Freemasons 
know this, as the present baronet is high in the craft. 
Everybody knows that P.erkelev is never, to cars polite, 
pronounced otherwise than " Barkley." that Leveson- 
Gower is called " Lewson-Gore," that Featherstonhatigh 
is " Frecstonhav." that Bohun is " Boone," and Mohum 
was "Moon," Urquhart " Urcot," and soon. What is 
curious is that in America the sound is reproduced, but 
the etymology lost. Thus in Calhoun, the name of a 
clever young American actress, who has unobtrusively 
made her way here, we recognize the Colquhoun of auld 
Scotland. It is also worthy of note that St. Maur is 
always pronounced "Seymour." — Neiv York Tribune. 

Noah was the original poker-player. We are told that 
he had a pair of everything in the pack, and it is recorded 
that he heaved ace high as he hauled in the gang plank. 




At 420 Kearny street, by 
Wm. P. Harrison. 

Subscription : $4 a year, postage paid : single copies Ten Cents. 
Newsdealers supplied by the San Francisco News Company, 210 Post st 




The San Franciscan will shortly commence the publi- 
cation of a series of original short stories by the following 
well-known American authors, viz: Chari.ks EGBERT 
Craddock, Elizabeth Stuart Phelps, Frank R. 
Stockton, Julian Hawthorne, Francis Hodgson 
Burnett, Richard Malcolm Johnston, Edward 
Everett Hale, Harriet Prescott Spofford, 


PERRY, Thomas Nelson Pace, and other famous story- 
tellers. We invite the attention o f the reading public of this 
coast to the consideration of the above list of authors. Tl/eir 
fame bespeaks their excellence, and the aim of The San 
Franciscan will a/ways be the best for the best. 


It is singular what diverse opinions prevail as to what 
constitutes education. Some time since the writer asked an 
educated Irish Catholic gentleman to give him a definition 
of education. Without a moment's hesitation he took a 
pencil and wrote the following: "The purpose of educa- 
tion should be to fit people for the discharge of the duties 
of life, according to their conditions or capacities." But 
this seemed to us a purely mercenary definition, involving 
the idea that we are simply educated for the purpose of 
getting along well in life, and assuming that there are and 
must be conditions and inequalities with which those who 
are lacking in capacity must be schooled into humble- 
contentment. But how are we to know who will be lack- 
ing in capacity, until all have received the mental dis- 
cipline incident to an education? And who can tell 
what shall be our condition in life until we shall have had 
our mental powers fully developed by an education, so 
that we shall be prepared to cope with the world? Now, 
while it is true that in one sense the definition of educa- 
tion involves a definition of what is the highest and best 
object of life — a solution of the problem of life, a state- 
ment of what is the correct theory of the duties and obli- 
gations of life — any definition of education that limits it 
to merely fitting us for the duties of life " according to our 
conditions and capacities" is essentially narrow, incom- 
prehensive and imperfect. We therefore invited a distin- 
guished lawyer — a graduate of Harvard, and a man of 
profound learning — to give us his definition of education. 
With equal promptness and celerity he wrote the follow- 
ing: " The purpose of education is, or should be, to de- 
velop the mental, moral and physical faculties to their 
fullest scope, so that each shall be in harmony with the 
other." Thisseemed tousa profound and comprehensive 
definition. It may be an impracticable one, as being so 
high that it is unattainable, but it is thoroughly American. 
The Stanford Memorial School, which appears to be 
based upon the theory of education advanced by our Irish- 
American friend, seems to us un-American. It presup- 
poses that the children of the poor must make up their 
minds in advance to follow some humble calling, and be 
educated down to it, and not above i:. The Federal 
Union of states was founded upon the theory that 
government was made for man, not man for government, 
and that the first duty of the government is to develop the 
highest manhood by education, without reference to 
poverty or condition. If we have found by our hundred 
years of experience that education interferes with the 
conventional laws of society, what shall we do— stop edu- 
cating, or let society take care of itself? Society is a 
mere adjustment of the relations of men upon the best 
basis attainable at the time of its formation. As men 
change society must change. If, when society was 
formed, some were slaves and some were freemen, some 
ignorant and others enlightened, some were rulers and 
and others subjects by birth, and in process of time the 
slaves became freemen, the ignorant became educated, 
and the rulers became selected by choice and not by 
birth, must not society adjust itself to the new order 
of things? The right of property by inheritance, where- 
by some are born rich and others are born poor, creates 

and fixes a degree of inequality upon our children, with- 
out reference to their capacities, which is, and always 
will be, so long as the law of inheritance continues, a 
hardship upon those who are born poor. But are we 
to meekly, abjectly and impotently fold our hands, and 
say to those of our children who are born poor, " To 
educate you to the fullest extent of your capacities will 
be but to unfit you for the condition of life into which 
you are born; therefore, remain ignorant, accept your 
humble station, and be content?" No, no. Ten thou- 
sand noes. Any state of society in which some are by 
right of inheritance entitled to a competence, while others 
are forced to accept the hard heritage of poverty and 
deprivation by the mere accident of birth, should be so 
adjusted that the inequality shall not be permanent, that 
the rights of the rich may not be perpetual, that the task 
of the poor shall not be hopeless. In order, therefore, 
that equality may thrive and take deep root, the limbs of 
the great overhanging tree of wealth should be carefully 
lopped off and its spreading branches closely trimmed ; 
and in order that this may be intelligently and discreetly 
done, we must educate each and all of our children as if 
we were preparing them to be rulers. 


The noble sentiment which inspired ex-Governor Stan- 
ford to contemplate the founding of an institution for the 
education of children of laboring men, so that they shall 
be fitted for the callings to which their circumstances in 
life may assign them, disarms criticism of any disposition 
to question the wisdom of such an institution. Philan- 
thropy is too rare a plant to be chilled by the frosty 
atmosphere of adverse comment. Yet the question of 
educating youth for specific callings, instead of educating 
them for the purpose of developing their minds, so that 
they may be competent to choose such occupations as 
they may find suitable to their tastes and talents, is one 
about which there are grave differences of opinion. 

To educate a child to follow some particular calling 
or to pursue some particular avocation, before its mind is 
sufficiently developed to indicate the bent of its inclina- 
tions, the direction of its tastes and the true course of its 
powers, is to dwarf it, to cripple it, and to educate it 
awry. Indeed, such a course of mental discipline is not 
education. There is no need of a school for the children 
of the poor to learn trades. No special education is needed 
to enable a man to make a pair of shoes, to plow a straight 
furrow, to feed a power press, or to open and shut the 
throttle valve of a steam engine. The division of labor has 
entered into the trades to such an extent that the intel- 
lectual grasp essential to the efficient performance of any 
of the subordinate branches of industry is reduced to a 
minimum. Senator Stanford's Memorial School is there- 
fore, in effect, the indirect announcement of a project by 
which the children of the poor are to be taught to be 
content with their lot. In other words, it is a method of 
saying that when a child's condition in life is fixed by the 
inheritance of poverty and an enforced life of labor, it 
shall be schooled to conform to its calling — which is 
merely another way of saying it should not be educated 
at all. When a laboring man wants his son to learn a 
trade, he places him in apprenticeship to some master 
workman, where he can learn the practical details of the 
art. The knowledge the boy acquires of his trade by 
ex|)erience is far superior to any theoretical knowledge 
he might acquire at school. If, on the other hand, the 
Stanford School is intended only for such young men as 
are desirious of studying the higher mechanics, chemis- 
try, metallurgy, engineering, and architecture, then it is 
but a duplicate of the institution to be established by the 
late James Lick. Perhaps the prolonged delay in the an- 
nouncement of the plan and scope of the institution has 
been caused by the inherent difficulties in the way of 
establishing such an institution as was at first contem- 


Professor Swing, a pulpit orator of Chicago, and an edi- 
torial writer for the Chicago Current, does not like opera 
" as she is sung," and arraigns it before the high bar of 
Chicago opinion. The substance of his indictment 
against opera is that it is heavy with uninteresting pas- 
sages, burdened by long and dreary recitations, lacking 
in those lights and shades of wit and pathos that relieve 
the monotony of theatrical representations, contains too 
much complicated harmony and not enough pleasing 
melody, and in short does not give that keen and unal- 
loyed pleasure throughout that its listeners have a right to 
expect from it. To support his indictment he cites the 

opera of Faust as a composition barren of melody, in 
which there is not an aria worthy the voice of Patti. 
Think of this, ye raving music maniacs of San Francisco, 
London and Paris, who would be willing to sell your 
souls to be able to produce an opera equal to Faust, with 
its wealth of melody and rich mines of harmony. Here 
is a great man from Chicago who has heard Faust, and 
pronounces it a failure. Here is an American citizen 
who sacrificed his liberty for three mortal hours by sitting 
through an elaborate grand opera performance in order 
that he might ex|x>se to the world what a humbug it was, 
and what cranks these opera composers are for not putting 
more " tunes " in their pesky operas. Perhaps it was well 
that the thought did not happen to dawn upon the colos- 
sal intellect of this Chicago sage that the fault might pos- 
sibly have been in him and not in the opera, and that 
instead of writing opera down to his comprehension, it 
might be better to try the experiment of having himself 
educated up to opera; but such a thought would doubt- 
less have been fatal to the Professor's over-fed self-con- 
ceit, without being of any corresponding service to op- 
era. We suggest to the Current that it try and induce 
its clerical contributor to " Swing low " on opera. 


Some weeks ago we congratulated the readers of The 
San Franciscan upon the appointment by the Supreme 
Judges, of ex-Judges Cope, Temple, and Belcher, under 
the late law establishing a Supreme Court Commission, to 
assist the Supreme Court in clearing its clogged docket. 
It seems that we were premature. Two of the appointed 
ex-Judges (Coj>e and Temple) declined the honor. Now 
the Supreme Judges have supplied their places by the 
appointment of Honorable Niles Searles and a gentleman 
who has so recently come among us that he may aptly be 
denominated a " carpet-bagger " from the South, who is 
usually spoken of as " Billy Foote's brother," but whose 
own name, as we are informed, is H. S. Foote. This 
strange gentleman from Mississippi was selected from 
among the entire bar of California, not because of any 
peculiar or eminent qualifications he possesses to occupy 
the position to which he has been appointed, nor by rea- 
son of any claims he has upon the people of the state, 
but as we understand solely upon " social and political 
grounds "—being a Southerner, a Democrat, and "Billy 
Foote's brother." It is reported that there is a doubt 
whether the other two members of the Commission will 
accept the appointment with him as a member of the 
court. It is strange that so conservative a body of men 
as are supposed to occupy the supreme bench of this state 
should have committed such an egregious blunder. 


The war of statements goes on as usual between the 
Spring Valley Company and the city officials. Summa- 
ries of expenditures and receipts arc mutually put forward, 
with the accustomed disagreements. So far the Spring 
Valley Company has refused to give the inner details of 
its statements, or present the items of the bulky millions 
which go to make up the fourteen literally unaccounted 
for millions upon which it wants dividends. As an 
illustration of the liberal way the Water Company has 
made its alleged expenditures, we will give the history 
of one item vouched for by the most credible authority. 
The Calaveras water scheme is claimed by the Spring 
Valley Company to have been purchased at a price some- 
thing beyond a million dollars. A few months before 
the purchase the same property was offered to the pre- 
vious Board of Directors of the Spring Valley Company 
at two hundred thousand dollars, and could have been 
bought for less. There was no appreciation of value 
during the interim, and we are informed that no ad- 
vance of price was made or demanded by the owners in 
the meantime; yet the property was purchased by the 
Spring Valley Company at the alleged price of one million 
dollars, and bonds for that amount were issued by the 
company's officials in payment for the property. The 
owners of the Calaveras property did not receive the 
bonds or their equivalent ; and it is an open secret that 
from seven to eight hundred thousand dollars of these 
bonds constituted the commission that was divided among 
the three or four very prominent gentlemen who manipu- 
lated the sale and purchase. The property has never 
been and is not now utilized. 


The "man in Buckram" London correspondent of 
the Chronicle presented to the readers of that live journal 


in last Sunday's edition, about two columns taken bodily 
from the last work of Stepniak's, Russia Under the Tbars. 
The extracted matter which formed the whole subject of 
the correspondent's letter, and which he doubtless in- 
tended to be received by the readers of the Chronicle as 
his own acquisition of Russian news and events, was 
taken verbatim from Stepniak's book, without the 
honesty of an inverted comma, without a word of ac- 
knowledgement of where the " news " was obtained, or a 
single clew to its origin. We are at a loss in this case 
which most to admire, the audacity of the fellow in 
thrusting his stolen goods so boldly upon the market for 
sale, or his presumption in calculating upon the igno- 
rance of his readers about a book which is already in 
general circulation in Harper's cheap edition. It is one 
of the tricks of the daily newspaper trade in sparsely 
populated districts, where there is little danger of being 
found out, to dish up flashing articles and sensational dis- 
patches under flaming heads, from - foreign cities, that 
really emanate from the editorial rooms. We suggest 
to our contemporary that hereafter it confine its " foreign 
correspondent " to books of less general circulation. The 
same correspondent announces with cheerful' cheek that 
he hopes to follow up the sensational events in his next 
letter from London. Why not give us, for variety, some 
pages of the newly revised Old Testament? 



It has long been my ambition's wildest dream to see 
this paper taking its proper rank among its congeners, by 
affording to a yearning public a column or two of informa- 
tion on matters that are none of the public's business. 
But as the proprietor of this otherwise enterprising journal 
obstinately persists in refusing to achieve greatness by 
employing a society scavenger, I intend to thrust it upon 
him gratuitously, and even surreptitiously. Not to overdo 
the thing and risk detection by his keen and — so to speak 
— aquiline eye, I collate only a few items from the morn- 
ing papers : 

Miss Smith is at home. 

Miss Brown is coming home. 

Miss Jones, of Red Dog, is visiting Miss Robinson, at 
Rattlesnake Ravine. 

(Continue this through three columns. The names 
make no difference.) 

At Mr. Timothy O'Toole's dinner last Sunday, the 
waiters (mostly O'Tooles) wore no gloves. The beer was 
of the vintage of '85. When the guests arose the whole 
table was a desert. With the pipes, rye wine (which is 
now de rigueur dX a diner a couteau) came on. O'Toole, 
his health and his whisky were drunk. Soon after, the 
merry revelers were complimented by a surprise party of 
six policemen. The ensuing ten minutes were very lively, 
when the surprisers left, each escorting one* of the 
guests, the rest being carelessly disposed about the floor. 

The Gossips' Gathering — an uncharitable association 
connected with the Guild of the Holy Suspicion — has 
joined with the ladies of St. Scandal's Sewing Circle, and 
will give an entertainment next week for the benefit of the 
office-holders ruined by the late fire — out. 

It is Miss Panzy Rafferty's glove, and not her shoe, as 
stated last week, that is No. 8. 

There is unimpeachable authority for the statement 
that not one of the six pairs of stockings included in Miss 
Pearl Finnegan's trousseau is "green with red clocks," 
as mendaciously asserted by a morning contemporary. 
Mr. P. had better employ a fashion reporter that isn't 
color-blind. A few more mistakes like this, and society 
will cease to read his Tuesday supplement. 

The belle of Tar Flat (every one will know we refer to 
Miss M-gg-e von M-ll-ig-n) is to spend the busy season 
with Mrs. ex-Tustice-of-the-Peace Smith — fifteen dollars 
a month ; no washing. 

Teddy Rourke, alias the Pivot-Dancer, has had his 
coat rebound with braid three inches wide — the very 
latest. Teddy is nothing if not a butterfly dude. 

It is whispered that the object of the recent meeting 
of the Cock-and-Bull Club was to investigate the charge 
against a prominent member, of appearing repeatedly in 
public without a crutch cane. 

Mr. Beer Cinder's new room on Tehama street (third 
floor back), which has been the subject of so much recent 
newspaper description, has been further adorned by the 
addition of an iron bar foot-rest around the stove, and a 
pulu pillow for his luxurious bunk. The leg of the 
broken pine chair has also been replaced by one of 
unplaned redwood, which gives that careless, bric-a-brack- 
ish air now so much affected by the hoe-tongs. 

At the pressing solicitation of friends, young Mr. Titus 
M'Gottem has taken rooms for the summer at the Inebri- 
ate's Home. His friends hope for the most beneficial 
results from the salubrious sea-breezes and strait-jackets 
of that hygienic resort. 

Our aspiring weeklies are staggering bravely along 
under the heavy responsibility of leading a groping public 

in the straight and narrow path of literary progress. 
Two of them have already kindly noticed Swinburne's 
late production. One calls it " Marion Folio," and an- 
other "Marion Faliero." The unhappy doge had his 
head cut off; but this cruel post-mortem mutilation and 
transposition savors of the reputed barbarities of the 
unlettered Piute. 

A new mining district located somewhere in Arizona has 
been named " Cleveland." No doubt the President will feel 
complimented; but the suggestion must be to him a 
a most unpleasant one. The unpleasantness lies in its 
unfortunate appropriateness. That ground is bound to 
be awfully bored before the locators get anything out 
of it. 

"Common-sense grammar" is becoming very popular 
among our leading educators ; but no-sense grammar (at 
least, as regards collocation) still holds its own in news- 
paper advertisements. The following appears in a mornr 
ing paper: 

While Judge J. W. Snowball of Knight's Landing was pre- 
paring some cartridges last Monday one of them exploded and 
inflicted a terrible wound just beneath the left eye and it is prob- 
able that he will lose it. 

Isn't it foolish to make a fuss about losing one car- 
tridge, and an exploded cartridge, at that? Now, if it 
had been the eye 

And another unfortunate advertises the loss of a gold 
horse-shoe shaped gentleman's locket. Had the man 
himself gone astray, there might have been some excuse 
for this cruel particularity ; but as it is only the locket 
that is lost, it seems to me a gratuitous unkindness to 
publish the gentleman's deformity to a cold and unsym- 
pathizing world. Still, a gentleman so bow-legged as to 
be actually "horse-shoe shaped," may, in thus giving 
publicity to the fact, have an eye to an engagement in a 
dime museum. 

" Dendrom — a positive cure for poisoning by poison- 
oak — campers should bear it in mind." The mind is all 
very well as a receptable for facts; but for antidotes and 
such tangible matters, a bottle or a grip-sack would seem 
to be more available. 

One of our enthusiastic young kindergarteners was giv- 
ing a lesson on colors — the special hue under consid- 
eration being red. " What can you see that is red? " in- 
quired the teacher. The keen little eyes and nimble 
tongues were busy for the next few minutes. Then there 
was a lull. Everything of the required color seemed to 
have been noted. The subject was about being dismissed, 
when a little hand was flung wildly in air. " Oh, Miss 

! I see something else that's red!" Then, in 

answer to an encouraging nod, " Your stockings are red, 

Miss ." The young instructress doubtless felt 

gratified at the power of observation developed under her 

Little Clarlie B is an inveterate talker. He was pre- 
paring for school, but constantly ceased the work of 
making his toilet to run into the next room to tell his 
mamma some wonderful thing that wouldn't keep. At 
last she peremptorily ordered him back to his little room 
and his occupation. 

" But oh, mamma, I had such an awful dream about 
you! I dreamed that you fell into a deep, deep well, 
and " 

"Charlie B — — , if you don't go and dress yourself this 
minute I'll come and spank you! I don't care what you 

The little figure disappeared; but a very indignant and 
flushed little face was thrust back through the door long 
enough to add, "And I just dreamed I didn't care, 
either. There ! " 

At the unvailing of the Actors' Monument to Poe, at 
the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, an original 
poem was recited by Willie Winter. Considering the de- 
parted bard's peculiar idiosyncrasy that, as the witty 
" Phcenix" Derby tersely put it, " he was the only living 
and original poet, and that all others were constantly in- 
fringing on his patent," it is a wonder that this presumption 
did not call the spirit of the insulted poet from its 
" wonted fires" or somewhere, to make it warm for this 
.Winter of his discontent. It is a brave man who will 
spout his own poetry while the spirit of Edgar A. Poe is 
present or even invoked. 

A lady on Taylor street is deeply interested in the train- 
ing and civilizing of her Chinese servant-boy. Joe is an 
apt pupil, and has already acquired a remarkable and 
heterogeneous mass of knowledge -culinary, moral, and 
religious. The other day his mistress was shocked to find 
that with all her instruction she had failed to make him 
comprehend the existence and attributes of the Deity. 
After a long and laborious homily hampered by the usual 
lingual disabilities, she said: " Poor Joe! he never heard 
of God ! " Put the familiar name caught Joe's ear attent. 
His face brightened up with conscious pride of knowl- 
edge, as he answered, " Oh, yes; me heap sabee him. 
Allee time me hear Melican man speakce him — God 
dam! Oh, me sabee him velly much." 

An eastern paper speaks of Miss Helene Dauvray as 

the former "Little Nell, the California Diamond, to 
whom the red-shirted and big-bearded Sandiesand To 
mies used hilariously to pitch little bags of gold-di 
when she warbled melodiously, and twinkled her merij 
feet, as Fidelio, the Fire Waif, in earlier days on the 
Pacific coast." 

There's an anachronism in this, somewhere. It may 
all be true ; but, if so, the new star's manager should at 
once put a stop to such reminiscences. The days where- 
in the honest miner ever became hilarious enough to 
"pitch little bags of gold-dust " at the most fascinating 
Fire Waif, are separated from to-day by more years than 
a rising star can well afford to register. They are away 
back among the dim and legendary memories of those 
among us who consider ourselves by no means blushing 
debutantes. If this sort of revival be encouraged, Miss 
Helene with all her attractions, personal and extraneous, 
can't expect to call to the front a respectable corporal's 
guard of the bald-headed reliables. 

On one of the rawest, coldest days that have followed 
in "the gentle train of spring" in California, two dishev- 
eled and breathless women, having just weathered Cape 
Horn, were smoothing their garments and regaining their 
breath in the comparative calm of Market street. 

" What a horrid, cold day! " said one, with an expres- 
sion as blue as her nose. 

" Yes," replied her young companion, with an angelic 
look of generous vicarious pleasure, " I know ; but what 
a heavenly day for Ella ! You know her sealskin has 
been made over, and trimmed with dyed beaver. It 
came home last night, and now she can wear it." 

And a look of rapture settled on her face, that only an 
abnormal generosity can call up by the contemplation of 
another woman's sealskin. 

A Salt Lake paper says: "The polygamy trials are at- 
tended largely by women, despite the indelicate nature of 
argument and testimony." Despite! Salt Lake diction- 
aries must be a little " out of tune." That's the first time 
I ever saw "despite" used as synonymous with "be- 


Six skeins and three, six skeins and three! 
Good mother, so you stinted me; 
And here they be— ay, six and three! 

Stop, busy wheel! stop, noisy wheel! 
Long shadows down my chamber steal, 
And warn me to make haste and reel. 

'Tis done — the spinning work complete; 

0 heart of mine, what makes you beat 
So fast and sweet? — so fast and sweet ! 

1 must have wheat and pinks, to stick 
My hat (rom brim to ribbon, thick; 
Slow hands of mine, be quick, be quick! 

One, two, three stars along the skies 

Hegin to wink their golden eyes; 

I'll leave my thread all knots and ties. 

O moon, so red ! O moon, so red ! 
Sweetheart of night, go straight to bed; 
Love's light will answer in your ftead. 

A-tiptoc, beckoning me, he stands; 
Stop trembling, little foolish hands, 
And stop the bands, and stop the bands! 

Alice Cary. 

The proverbial lore of all nations is strongly in favor of 
the importance of trifles. "The mother of mischief is 
no bigger than a fly's wing," runs the Italian proverb, 
while the English traces up the " loss of a kingdom " to 
the loss of the nail of a horseshoe. Many historical 
writers have pointed out what different results would have 
followed some trifling departure from the line of action 
followed by the men whose lives they record. Livy 
devotes pages to speculations as to what would have 
ensued had Alexander the Cireat invaded Italy. Had 
Prince Charles Edward marched south instead of north 
after quitting Derby, the Hanoverian line of kings might 
have terminated with George the Second. Had Charles 
Martel lost the battle of Tours in 732, the Crescent 
might have supplanted the Cross in Europe for centuries. 
I lad the famous " Icon Basilikc " been published a week 
earlier, many persons believed it would have saved the 
life of Charles I, so strong a hold did it take on the 
popular sentiment ; but the work appeared a few days 
after the execution of the king. In everyday life we must 
all know countless instances in which a mere trifle has 
affected a whole career. The failure to keep an appoint- 
ment, or to catch a train, a slight accident, a shower, a 
letter posted too late, may all be the very turning jioints 
to a life, and bear results for good or evil for the whole of 
a man's existence. When the Jacobites toasted " The 
little gentleman in black velvet " (the mole who made the 
hillock at which William the Third's horse stumbled, 
inflicting injuries on his rider, which afterward proved 
fatal), they acknowledged the universal tendency to trace 
tip great events to trifling sources. 

Miserable sinners : A gentleman went into a crowded 
store to buy some stockings for his wife. " I want striped 
ones," he said to the clerk. " We have very few stripes, 
sir," the clerk replied ; "they are not much worn now." 
"Are you sure?" " Oh, yes, quite sure. I will demon- 
strate the fact to you." Then he leaned over the counter 
and shouted : " Rats ! " " See? " he asked. " Yes; give 
me plain colors." 




On account of the dignity and wise look of large words, 
science never uses a simple term when a large one can be 
impressed into service. Thus the sleep produced by 
long gazing at a bright object or by the hands of a mes- 
mer is called hypnotism, while the sleep which comes 
from disease is called a profound coma. Following this 
tendency of science to use high-sounding terms, those 
who discovered the value of the mind in overcoming 
disease saw fit to name the fact or theory the metaphysi- 
cal cure. As those who are the parents of a child have 
the right to name it, so these discoverers of a new [xnver 
in the mind had a perfect right to call it by the name that 
most pleased them. 

It has always been known that the mind can exert a 
good or bad influence over the body. The old mental 
philosophies were full of stories which had a tendency to 
show how persons had taken to bed after having been 
told by a succession of acquaintances, about the dread- 
ful paleness of face or of a most unhealthy expression of 
the eyes. It was also affirmed, in the olden newspapers, 
that some mischievous wife made her husband believe 
that he was swelling up with dropsy, and should by all 
means hasten to the German Springs, and should take 
her along as nurse, his condition being so critical. The 
wife thus secured a trip to Europe — her art being that of 
taking pieces out of her husband's vests, so that it became 
almost impossible for him to make them reach around 
his abnormal body. 

The metaphysical cure is, therefore, not a discovery, 
but the expansion into a medical practice of a power 
which had once been little else than a curiosity. A 
tendency of our age is to utilize forces. Nothing so pains 
the American mind as the thought of having anything go 
to waste. We are now in a worry lest there may be an 
electric jjotency that might turn all our wheels; we are 
attempting to run engines by sunbeams; the waste of 
waterpower at Niagara is the grief of many; while those 
who have escaped these forms of distress are made un- 
happy because the air is not as full of balloons as the 
streets are of cars and wagons. 

In such a day it was very naturally concluded that if 
mind has a power over health and disease, let us utilize 
this power. Let us not permit the force to escape all 
duty, like the waters of Niagara. Let us not permit 
merely artful women to use it as a' means of inducing 
dropsy and a foreign trip. Let us domesticate this 
mental influence, and extract from it valuable service. 

Thus came the metaphysical cure, about eight or ten 
years ago. In the hands of extremists it is made partly 
one of the delusions of the world, but in the hands of the 
wise and moderate it is a tonic of great value, and will 
displace a large amount of quinine and wild-cherry bit- 
ters. Its philosophy may all be summed up in the fact 
that the soul affects the body and can rouse up its torpid 
blood, can make the liver, heart, lungs, and tne brain — 
that nerve center — quicken their pace and use up or 
crowd out the diseased globules from the blood and fluids. 
Clara Morris has, perhaps, saved her life by acting upon 
the stage just enough to enable her mind to reconstruct, 
from time to time, her delicate physique. One of the old 
poets said, " The soul doth the body make" — it being a 
well-known fact that the educated and powerful mind 
makes the face into its own likeness. 

This is, then, the philosophy of the mind cure. It can 
do much for man, and is not to be reproached because it 
cannot do everything. If the influence of the mind may 
benefit one sick person in twenty-five, it will then surpass 
in value many popular medicines; and if it shall prevent 
many others from falling into any imaginary illness, it will 
confer a second benefit upon the community. Man is 
not in a condition to reject the help of any of nature's 
kind offers. By means of all these discovered helps the 
evils of ill health may be mitigated, if not banished from 
the world. Will, energy, medicine, fasting, good air, 
good food, good water, are all friends of health, but no 
one of these is master of the entire field of ailment. He 
will act most wisely who employs all these causes at dif- 
ferent times of neea. 

The instances in which the body is languishing under 
only a feeble will-power are very many. A delicately 
organized lady of Chicago lay sick a few weeks with lung 
fever, and became so accustomed to feebleness that at 
last she had to be told very plainly by her physician that 
she was well, and that she must rise, dress, and go down 
to the supper table. She has lived to laugh over the ab- 
surdity of spending perhaps two weeks in bed after she 
had fully recovered. 

A citizen of Chicago who had been in his bedroom for 
a few weeks, and had no thought of going out to business 
for a week more, was cured by a conflagration in a neigh- 
bor's house. He went out to help save life and property, 
and became so fully aroused that his bed-room lost its 
charm. He dined with his family and resumed business 
next day, being unable to sink back to feebleness. 

With masses of such evidence of the power of mind 
over matter, either to weaken it or to build it up, it is 
high time for us all to invoke the aid of this spiritual 
influence in not a few days of life ; but to call it a general 
practice of medicine is to attempt to make a part equal 
the whole. This feat the new practitioners are attempt- 
ing to perform. They are even attempting to cure disease 
when it is far away from the alleged doctor — the doctor 
throwing his mental force a thousand miles, and making 
it land like a bombshell amid the works of the enemy. 
This is that reductio absurdum which has been common 
in all times. Phrenology was an attempt to carry a few 
general truths into a most detailed science ; Socialism was 
an effort to take up the law of order and apply it until 
society should become a precise machine; Thoreau 
attempted to simplify man until he could live alone, and 
on ten dollars a year; Quakerism was an attempt to kill 
off all colors except drab, and all music except the sing- 
song of their speeches at meeting. 

But all these efforts to force the universe into one fact 
or one fancy will fail, and the " Metaphysical Doctors" 

will have the mortification of taking some back steps. 
They can help our world, but not by promising, like a 
patent medicine, to cure every form of disorder. They 
should be satisfied with the study and practice of an art 
which may accomplish much good for society. — David 
Swing, in Current. 


O mistress mine, where are you roaming? 
Oh, stay and hear! your true-love's coming 

That can sing both high and low; 
Trip no further, pretty sweeting! 
Journeys end in lovers' meeting. 

Every wise man's son doth know. 

What is love? 'tis not hereafter. 
Present mirth hath present laughter; 

What's to come is still unsure: 
In delay there lies no plenty — 
Then come kiss me, Swect-and-twenty, 

Youth's a stuff will not endure. Shakespeare. 


Kiss me softly, and speak to me low. 

Malice has ever a vigilant ear: 

What if malice were lurking near? 
Kiss me, dear ! 
Kiss me softly, and speak to me low. 

Kiss me softly, and speak to me low. 
Envy, too, has a watchful ear: 
What if envy should chance to hear? 
Kiss me, dear ! 

Kiss me softly, and speak to me low. 

Kiss me softly, and speak to me low; 
Trust me, darling, the time is near 
When lovers may love with never a fear. 
Kiss me, dear ! 
Kiss me softly, and speak to me low. 

fokn G. Saxe. 


Is there anything on earth, 

Where the strongest are not strong, 
Half so feeble in Us birth, 

Or so sure of death, as Song? 
Frailer blossom never grew, 

Pelted by the summer rain; 
Lighter insect never Hew — 

Scarcely come ere gone again ! 
Children, who chase butterflies, 

May pursue it to and fro; 

Little maids who sigh, " Heigh-ho! " 
May deplore it, when it dies; 
Loftier deeds to men belong — 
Larger life than Song! 

There is nothing on the earth. 

Where so many things are strong, 
Half so mighty in its birth, 

And so sure of life, as Song. 
Never pine on mountain heignt 

So the thunderbolt defies; 
Never eagle in his flight 

Soars with such undaunted eyes! 
Conquerors pull empires down, 

Think they will not be forgot; 

Hut if song pursue them not, 
Time destroys their dark renown. 
Nothing is remembered long 
Bat the life of Song ! 
K. II. Stoddard, in Springfield Republican. 


In the Knickerbocker days 

Long ago, 
When they jogged in gig and chaise 

To and fro, 
She who smiles in gown brocaded 
From this picture old and faded. 
Was a maid whose locks unbraided 
Shamed the crow. 

That she reigned the village belle, 

It was said. 
No man now, alas, may tell — 

All are dead — 
Put I know it is no fiction 
That she would not brook restriction; 
Yery dainty was her diction, 

I have read. 

Nobles vainly sighed and sued 

For her hand, 
Till a dashing gallant who'd 

Had command 
Of a troop of Continentals 
Won her, in his regimentals, 
Though he'd neither stocks nor rentals 

In the land. 

Then her angry father raged 

In his might — 
Swore the maiden should be caged 

Safe from sight. 
Put one morn he chanced to waken 
To behold her nest forsaken, 
For the wily bird had taken 

Wing at night. 

When he found that she had flown 

From his side — 
Sadly thinkine of his own 

Buried bride — 
From his harshness he relented, 
Of his cruelty repented. 
Sought his child, and lived contented 

Till he died. 

And the one she held most dear 

Soon became 
Through the country, far and near, 

Known to fame. 
For his wisdom he was noted; 
Widely were his sayings quoted. 
And your servant, most devoted, 

Bears his name! Clinton Scollard. 


Fortresses are of little use — indeed of no use, unless 
[ there are troops of sufficient numerical strength to hold 
them. Unfortunately, the British army, although much 
improved of late years, and although it now possesses a 
reserve which formerly was non-existent, is not numeri- 
cally strong enough for the duties required of it, espe- 
cially when, as at the present time, over 20,000 men are 
locked up in the valley of the Nile, and 24,000 in Ireland. 
The army in England and Scotland at the present time 
consists of 59, 000 regular troops not under orders for for- 
eign service; of 24,000 regular troops in Ireland, who can 
hardly be removed from that island; of 24,000 in foreign 
stations, (exclusive of Egypt, the Soudan and India); of 
22,000 in Egypt and the Soudan, or under orders, (of these 
15,000 are already there and 7,000 on the way); 60,000 in 
India, and two West Indian regiments of negroes, num- 
bering about 1,700 ot all ranks. There are also about 
34,500 in the first-class reserve, 7,000 in other reserves, 
and a militia reserve of 26,000. In case of a complica- 
tion, no troops could be called out except those in En- 
gland and Scotland and the reserve — a total of 126,500. 
From this total, however, must be deducted all sick men 
and recruits — about 25.000 — leaving only 101,500 availa- 
ble for the greatest emergency. With regard to the mili- 
tia, its establishment is 142,000 but the actual strength is 
about 107,000. Of these, 26,000 belong to the militia 
reserve, already counted in the regular army ; abseentees 
and deserters number 11,000; recruits, 18,000; so that 
only 52,000 is the total force of militia that can be de- 
pended upon in case of war. Thus only 153,500 men can be 
brought together. Of these, garrisons abroad will require 
40,000 to fill them up; the arsenals and military posts, 
18,000 regulars, even supposing that volunteers form the 
chief part of their defense, in addition to 28,000 pensioners 
and 30,000 militia ; the commercial ports would require, 
in addition to the volunteers, 4,000 regulars and 8,000 
militia. These, taken altogether, number 128,000. Tak- 
ing that number from 153,000, there remains only 25,500 
for the movable army, a force totally inadequate to take 
the field with any prospect of success against an invading 
force— which would not certainly be less than 120,000 
men — or with which to conduct any offensive expedition 
into an enemy's country. — fortnightly Review. 

Many of Napoleon's biographers have incidentally 
mentioned that he, like one of them (M. Thiers), used to 
carry about a certain number of favorite books wherever 
he went, whether traveling or campaigning; but it is not 
generally known that he made several plans for the con- 
struction of portable libraries which were to form part of 
the baggage. Some interesting information upon this 
head is given us by M. Louis Barbier, who for many years 
had the care of the Louvre Library, and who bases his 
information upon some memoirs left by his father, who 
was librarian to Napoleon himself. For a long time 
Napoleon used to carry about the books he required in 
several boxes holding about sixty volumes each. These 
volumes, which were either octavo or duodecimo, stood 
upon shelves inside the boxes, which were supplied by 
the well-known cabinetmaker, Jacob. They were made 
of mahogany at first, but as it was found that this was not 
strong enough for the knocking about they had to sustain, 
M. Barbier had them made of oak, and covered with 
leather. The inside was lined with green leather or vel- 
vet, and the books were bound in morocco. There was 
a catalogue for each case, with a corresponding number 
upon every volume, so that there was never a moment's 
delay in picking out any book that was wanted. A»soon 
as the Emperor had selected his headquarters during a 
campaign these cases were placed in the room which was 
intended to be his study, together with the portfolios con- 
taining his letters and maps. In course of time, however, 
Napoleon .found that many books which he wanted to 
consult were not included in the collection, and upon 
inquiring the reason was informed that they would not fit 
into the cases. This, of course, was an answer which did 
not satisfy one so imperious, and, while residing at Bay- 
onne in 1808, he dictated the following memoir, which 
was sent to M. Barbier: " Bayonne, July 17, 1808. The 
Emperor wishes to form a traveling library of one thou- 
sand volumes in small i2mo, and printed in handsome 
type. It is his Majesty's intention to have these works 
printed for his special use. and in order to economize 
space there is to be no margin to them. They should 
contain from 500 to 600 pages, and be bound in covers as 
flexible as possible, and with spring backs. There should 
be 40 works on religion, 40 dramatic works, 40 volumes 
of epic and 60 of other poetry', 100 novels, and 60 volumes 
of history, the remainder being historical memoirs of 
every period." — 77ie Academy. 

Humboldt used to be horribly annoyed when he could 
not have all the talking to himself. I remember that 
once there was somebody at the King's who took up the 
conversation — and quite naturally, for he could talk in an 
agreeable manner about things that interested every one 
present. Humboldt was beside himself. Growling, he 
filled his plate with a pile of goose-liver pie, fat eels, lob- 
ster tails, and other indigestible substances — a real mount- 
ain ! It was quite astounding what the old man could 
put away. When he could positively eat no more he 
could no longer keep quiet, and so made an attempt to 
get the conversation into his own hands. " Upon the 
peak of Popocatapetl," he began ; but it was no use, the 
narrator would not be cut short in his story. " Upon the 
peak of Popocatapetl, seven thousand yards above the 
level of the Pacific ocean," he exclaimed, in a loud, agi- 
tated voice, shaken by grief and indignation ; but to no 
purpose — the other man talked away as steadily as before, 
and the company listened to him and to him only. Such 
a thing had never been heard of. Humboldt sat down 
in a fury, and plunged into profound meditations upon 
the ingratitude of courtiers. — Moritz Busch, in Our Chan- 


T T 


The transparent fraud of materialization will probably 
be effectively exposed by the Spiritualists themselves. It 
is estimated that there are in round numbers about 
5,000,000 professed Spiritualists in this country. Of this 
number at least nine-tenths do not accept materializa- 
tion or clairaudience, and believe that their development 
and advocacy are injurious to the popular acceptation of 
their belief in spiritual inspiration. One of the Spiritual- 
istic papers published in Chicago boldly proclaims 
materialization to be impersonation and charlatanry. 
The Spiritualists themselves propose tests which will 
surely completely demoralize and expose the fraud of 
materialization. It is proposed that the medium shall sit 
in a double or divided cabinet; that a partition of some 
light stuff, not sufficient to destroy the force, shall sepa- 
rate the medium and the materialization, thus positively 
preventing impersonation. Or they would like to inclose 
the medium in a bag of mosquito netting, which would 
confine her while it would not counteract or disturb the 
mysterious forces (?), enabling materialization through the 
peculiar mediumistic powers claimed by this class of 

Converts are so stultified in their belief that even such 
a bold expose as was made the other day in Kansas City 
by a local editor, who identified Mott, the medium, at a 
materialization by spattering him with aniline -ink carried 
in a syringe, does not shake their faith, but an exposure 
by the Spiritualists themselves cannot fail to have some 
effect on the benighted followers of and sufferers from 
the illusions of the impersonating materializing mediums. 
Once under the influence of the medium, there would 
seem to be no hope of the victim ever recovering his or 
her self-control. As a rule the mediums are common- 
place and ignorant persons, and their influence is always 
selfish and injudicious, to say the least. It is in the 
knowledge of the writer that a separation and divorce 
were brought about between a very worthy but slightly 
uncongenial couple, through the probably well meant, 
though very bad and stupid, advice of a materialized 
spirit, the medium taking her cue from the presumed 
wishes and intentions of the victim, who, believing im- 
plicity in the demonstration, faithfully accepted and 
acted on the advice received from the cabinet. Another 
case which may be cited of the pernicious influence of 
the medium is that of a recent dissolution of partner- 
ship of two well-known theatrical managers and artists, 
one of them having passed under the control of spiritual 
guidance, he having been converted by a well-known 
materializing medium. So many satisfactory tests can 
be offered by the mediums and their fanatical followers 
that even the skeptic is sometimes bothered in his investi- 
gations; but an honest, thorough, and unprejudiced ex- 
amination will always explain these tests, as any other of 
the developments of Spiritualism. The many misses of 
the table communications are not mentioned; only the 
hits are remembered and blazoned forth to the world by 
tongue and press. As a rule these tests do not amount 
to much, and would not convince any one excepting a 
zealot, prepared to shout " Wonderful! " " Miraculous ! " 
when a calm, dispassionate investigation would reveal 
nothing of the kind, but a self-evident imposition. 

Time and pains are necessary in the investigation of 
one of these tests (if the game be considered worth the 
candle). For instance, some years ago Mrs. Victoria 
Woodhull posed in a Bond street mansion as a clairaudient 
medium. One day a well-known gentleman received 
a letter from her, saying that she would give him some 
valuable information in a trance in regard to a law suit he 
was then prosecuting in a distant western state. The 
gentleman was not aware that any one here knew anything 
of this suit outside of his immediate circle of friends, and, 
it is needless to say, was much surprised by the commu- 
nication in question. Calling at the number given, he 
found that a seance would cost him ten dollars. Leaving, 
he sought two gentlemen friends, to whom he briefly told 
all he knew about the pending suit; and with them 
returned to Mrs. Woodhull, and bargained for a seance, 
on condition that she should not receive the ten dollars 
if she failed to impart any information (more than he 
knew himself) about the suit, the two men accompanying 
him to officiate as judges. Mrs. Woodhull declined at 
first, but after a little discussion accepted the proposition, 
and " went into " a trance. In the presumed or claimed 
trance condition she had a great deal to say about the 
lawsuit, but nothing that those present did not know 
already, and when she returned to a normal state the two 
judges, much to her chagrin, and at a sacrifice of their 
natural chivalrous impulses, decided that she was not 
entitled to the money, as she had given no information 
(and, indeed, had not said half on the subject that either 
of them could have said). Years rolled by, and the sub- 
ject had almost passed from the memory of the gentleman 
engaged in the law suit, when a chance conversation one 
night with a friend revealed the fact that the latter, once 
consulting the medium, had thoughtlessly mentioned the 
legal proceedings, the name, etc., and she with the alac- 
rity characteristic of the craft had communicated with 
the party — hence the interview — in which in the suppos- 
ititious trance condition she had only given such informa- 
tion on the subject as had been narrated to her, and 
which, relying on the credulityand reverence generally 
inspired by the presence of a medium, she relied would 
be cheerfully accepted as serviceable. 

A little investigation will always discover the fact that 
these mediums previously ascertain all that they com- 
municate; and the programme of the seances, whether of 
the materializing medium or the clairaudient medium, is 
prearranged, and there is nothing except of the most trivial 
nature that is impromptu or inspired by the moment. All 
the guides have a set of stereotypical phrases and speeches 
which make an impression the first time, but become very 
" flat, stale and unprofitable " on such frequent repetition. 
It is not surprising that so many prominent and reputable 
persons are professed believers in the "phenomena" of 
Spiritualism. To the sympathetic, the impressible and ' 

the sorrowing it is very fascinating and comforting, 
especially to those who, either in consequence of lack of 
early religious training or from imperfectly developed re- 
ligious views, enjoy no fixed faith and incline toward 
stern materialism with yearnings which it does not satisfy. 
The grief-stricken mother wishes to see her lost child, and 
allows herself to be converted without the investigation 
that she would bestow on the purchase of a pair of stock- 
ings. Investigation would be a disappointment in many 
cases that is avoided by an exercise of faith that soon 
amounts to fanaticism, so that eventually an exposure 
will not open the eyes of the dupe. The belief in direct 
spiritual inspiration is growing, and Spiritualism as enun- 
ciated by Dr. Newton is growing rapidly here and in 
Europe, bu* the materialization business is a step too far; 
and to the Spiritualists themselves, as boldly announced 
at their meetings since the articles in these columns, may 
be left the exposure and annihilation of the fraud, and 
to the agnostics with spiritualistic leanings may be left 
the work. — New York Times. 


The red light shone through the open door, 

From the round declining sun, 
And fantastic shadows all about 

On the dusty floor were thrown, 
As the factory clock told the hour of five, 

And the school was almost done. 

The mingled hum of the busy town 

Rose faint from the lower plain, 
And we saw the steeple over the trees, 

With its motionless golden vane, 
And heard the cattle's musical low, 

And the rustle of standing grain. 

In the open casement a lingering bee 

Murmured a drowsy tune, 
And, from the upland meadows, a song 

In the lulls of the afternoon 
Had come on the air that wandered by, 

Laden with the scents of June. 

Our tasks were finished and lessons said, 

And we sat, all hushed and still, 
Listening to catch the purl of the brook, 

And the whirr of the distant mill, 
And waiting the word of dismissal, that yet 

Waited the master's will. 

The master was old and his form was bent, 
And scattered and white his hair; 

But his heart was young, and there ever dwelt 
A calm and kindly air, 

Like the halo over a pictured saint, 
On his face marked deep with care. 

His eyes were closed, and his wrinkled hands 

Were folded over his vest, 
As wearily back in his old arm-chair 

He reclined as if to rest ; 
And the eolden streaming sunlight fell 

On his brow, and down his breast. 

We waited in reverent silence long, 

And silence the master kept, 
Though still the accustomed saintly smile 

Over his features crept ; 
And we thought, worn with the lengthened toil 

Of the summer's day, he slept. 

So we gently rose and left our seats, 

And outward into the sun, 
From the gathering shades of the dusty room, 

Stole silently one by one; 
For we knew by the distant striking clock 

It was time the school was done; 

And left the master sitting alone, 

Alone in his high-backed chair, 
With his eyelids closed, and his withered palms 

Folded as if in prayer, 
And the mingled light and smile on his face; 

And we knew not death was there. 

Nor knew that just as the clock struck five, 

His kindly soul away 
A shadowy messenger silently bore 

From its trembling house of clay, 
To be a child with the saints of heaven, 

And to dwell with Christ alway ! 


Before another year is out a great, if not the greatest, 
figure of this century will probably have disappeared. It 
may be that the Emperor William of Germany only 
remains alive and erect through the strength of his indom- 
itable energy, or that he survives to fulfill the prophecy of 
the Protestant Rhenish clergyman who long ago foretold 
that William the First would reach the age of ninety. 
His Majesty has just celebrated the eighty-ninth, and, in 
spite of the gaps made by time and death in the aged 
monarch's circle, he still stands surrounded by a goodly 
and numerous family. He sat at the festive board be- 
tween his sister, a dowager of eighty-two, and the Em- 
press, now already seventy-four. Around the imperial 
couple were groujied four generations of children and 
grandchildren — four generations of king or heirs apparent 
to some of the proudest thrones of Europe. Besides, 
William I is related to all the reigning families of Ger- 
many, and to most foreign courts, and receives from each 
member loving homage and respect. Not less sincere and 
more touching is the veneration of the whole nation for 
the old sovereign. The relations between him and his 
subjects are almost patriarchal. A delicate pretense of 
ignorance, a guarded silence, is preserved by all classes 
when one or another of the customs and habits of the 
Emperor has to be quietly relinquished or temporarily 
abandoned. The Emperor and his three brothers were 
all tall, well-built, military-looking men. The Berlin 
population, fond of a certain analytic demonstration, 
once described them thus : " The King," they said, 
meaning the then reigning Frederick William, " is witty 
and handsome ; Prince William " — the present Emperor 

— "is handsome, but not witty; Prince Charles is wit 
but not handsome, and Prince Albert is neither witty 
handsome." This appreciation is neither absolutely t 
rect nor absolutely the reverse; but if William I is not 
precisely witty in the sparkling sense ol the world, he is 
endowed with the royal quality of tact, and a genial, 
courtly manner which enables him to say the right thing 
to the right person on every occasion. He is gentle, 
almost tender, with women, fond of their society, lenient 
to their frailties. He can converse with the same kindly 
ease either with young debutantes, fashionable ambassa- 
dresses, stern wrinkled excellenzen, or the princesses of the 
stage and o|>cra, for whom he always had a great partiality. 
Mesdames Lucca, Artot, Trebelli, and many other stars, 
are fully appreciated by him in their private capacity, and 
at the court concerts where they appeared he has never 
failed to express his gratification at their efforts in a few 
well-chosen words. He was and is passionately fond of 
the opera. 

Hut devoted as William I is to opera, he never goes 
without ascertaining the intentions of the Empress Au- 
gusta, and if she requires him for any other plan or dis- 
position of the evening hours, he invariably accedes to 
ner wish. He has for his wife all the attentive politeness 
and tender solicitude of a younger husband, and in the 
domestic circle addresses her in the familiar second per- 
son singular, the homely German du, but both in public 
and private treats her with the greatest deference. Un- 
willing to own to any lack of strength, the Emperor re- 
fuses to use the lift which unites his apartments on the 
ground floor to those of the Empress on the first story, 
yet he painfully ascends once a day the narrow, winding, 
interior staircase to visit her, and only leaves her if his 
presence is not required. 

The soothing, paternal influence of the home life at 
the court of Berlin had a softening and beneficial effect 
on the Princess Royal of England, when she came as a 
bride of seventeen to marry the heir to the throne. She 
arrived imbued with the tyrannical, selfish cxclusiveness 
of hei mother, ready for absolute conjugal desjiotism, and 
with a British unwillingness to adapt herself to any habits 
and customs not her own. The Emperor petted and in- 
dulged her, but curbed her temper and resisted her ex- 
actions. At a gala concert given in honor of the newly 
married Queen of Portugal, the Princess Victoria, for the 
first time, had to relinquish her bridal post of honor on 
the sovereign's right. Unable to hide her vexation, she 
wrenched her long train from the hands of the pages in 
attendance, who were about to lay it across the back of 
her seat, according to etiquette, and flung it, with a crash- 
ing sweep of velvet and gold embroidery, around her feet. 
Her father-in-law held up a reproving finger, and shook 
his head at the petulant woman, but with so benevolent 
a look that he coaxed back a smile to the pouting lips. 
He also put a stop to certain exigencies of the young wife 
which interfered with what the monarch considered pub- 
lic duty, such as telegraphing three or four times in one 
afternoon to the Prince Royal to hurry back from review 
or maneuver at Potsdam, because she wanted him. He 
also prohibited some indecorous vagaries, attempted only 
as trials of power, such as compelling her husband to give 
her his arm while visiting on foot, late at night, the booths 
of the Christmas fair on the Castle square at Berlin. 

The Emperor's mode of life even to this day is simple, 
regular, almost austere. Only last year he yielded to the 
often expressed wishes of his physicians, and consented 
to rise at nine instead of his usual hour of seven. Above 
his bed is a large picture of his mother, the beautiful 
Queen Louise, and in his room lie scattered a profusion 
of hand-made souvenirs, gifts from his children and their 
children, his servants even, on all of which his favorite 
corn-flower is prominent He likes old, convenient 
clothes, and on rising dons a worn uniform, although he 
is most punctilious in the strict observanccc of the cour- 
tesy which makes him, when receiving an allied prince, 
put on the uniform of the regiment bearing his name 
when he has the honorary command of it. He has been 
known to change his regimentals three or four times in 
one morning in accordance with this formality. 

After one hour given to intimacy, his first interview is 
with his Minister of War, with whom he enters into the 
minutest details, after which, till one o'clock, he receives 
all civil and military reports, and transacts business, gen- 
erally standing in that historical embrasure looking on 
the square where rises the bronze equestrian statue of his 
ill UStriOUStrious ancestor, Frederick the Great. He lunches 
alone, on eggs and a cutlet, in less than a quarter of an 
hour. His physicians are still unable to make him take 
a few moments' siesta in the afternoon, as also to make 
him give up some indigestible viands of which he is 
inordinately fond, such as cucumbers and lobster. When 
he rides, his horse, a powerful, admirably trained charger, 
is led up to him in a trench dug a little dee(>cr every year, 
so that he can mount with more facility. Painful and 
laborious as the ascent now is, once in the saddle, the 
Nestor of Kings has still a right royal and martial pres- 

At six o'clock he dines with the Empress— on ordinary 
occasions a simple repast of three courses, over in half 
an hour. After the opera, at ten he reenters the palace, 
takes leave of his wife, has a cup of tea, and retires to his 
well-earned rest, to begin on the morrow another well- 
filled, laborious day. — New York Sun. 

The teachers, in some of the educational journals, are 
pleading earnestly for permanent tenure of office. Mrs. 
Mary A. Livermore advocates it in the Journal of Edu- 
cation, on the ground that the system of annual elections 
frequently compromises the integrity and justice of the 
school committees, and also because it prevents the 
teachers from taking that stand in public and social af- 
fairs which they have the right to take, and could take 
with honor to themselves and benefit to society. Presi- 
dent Eliot, of Harvard University, in the same journal 
also favors it, and, logically, the retirement of superannu- 
ated teachers upon pensions or annuities. The states of 
California and Maryland, and the City of New York, al- 
ready appoint their teachers without limitation of time. 




Editor San Franciscan: In impressive 
seclusion, with awful mystery of locked doors, 
the money in the Treasury has been counted, and 
gold and siver, notes and bonds, have been 
handed over to the keeping of the new United 
States Treasurer, Mr. Jordan. He says that 
everything is in a satisfactory condition, which 
removes a great weight from the public mind. 
Just before the count was finished an alarming 
deficiency of two cents was discovered in a five 
dollar package of pennies. The retiring Treas- 
urer was allowed to supply it from his own 
pocket, and will not be prosecuted. 

An interesting little souvenir was discovered 
during the count. Stowed away, and forgotten, 
in an odd corner of one of the vaults, was found 
a heavy square box, elaborately secured with 
wrappings and red tape. Although the counters 
were all men, it excited great curiosity, and 
when no one could open it a locksmith was sent 
for. Curiosity was still further excited when the 
contents were found to be a bottle of diamonds, 
a bottle of pearls, another of attar of roses, and 
a lump of gold. An old employe was finally 
found who identified the articles as a present 
sent by the Japanese government to President 
Monroe, in 1823. He had to wait to accept it till 
Congress passed an act giving him leave to do 
so. The act Congress lias up to this time ne- 
glected to pass, and the receiver has now gone 
beyond the need of pearls and diamonds. The 
interesting question now is, What will l>e done 
with them? It is said that Mr. Monroe's heirs 
will be hunted up, and the articles given to 
them. After all, it is not such an Arabian 
Night ish find as might at first ap|)ear, for the 
jewels are said to be of an inferior kind, such as 
are used by thrifty foreign potentates to decorate 

Are you making desjieratc efforts in California 
to assist poor poverty-stricken New York to 
raise a few thousand dollars to make a pedestal 
to put her long-expected statue on? An appeal 
has been made by one of the papers here, and 
some idea of the tremendous wave of popular 
enthusiasm which it has excited may be obtained 
from the fact that a response has been received 
from one man — a Seventh street druggist — who 
has sent a contribution of one dollar. Perhaps 
one reason that the offerings are not more 
numerous is that nine-tenths of the clerks, who 
constitute so large a proportion of Washington, 
are anticipating the first of J uly — the beginning of 
a new fiscal year — with a certain fearful looking 
for of judgment, which causes them even to men- 
tion that ominous date with bated breath. When 
the election of President Cleveland was uncer- 
tain, it was the confident expectation that if he 
did come in they would all be cleared out at one 
fell swoop. Well, he did come in, and for awhile 
the settled gloom of despair fell upon the luck- 
less department clerks. They all retrenched with 
tremendous vigor, and exchanged with each 
other the most doleful prophecies. Comparing 
notes as to possible chances at home or in re- 
mote western wilds, was a favorite amusement. 
There is always a large number of young men in 
the department-s who arc studying at one of the 
colleges here, either law or medicine; divinity 
doesn't seem quite so popular. They all begin 
the course with great ardor in the autumn, but 
as the season conies on of parties and germans, 
and the theaters open, the attendance on the 
lectures is apt to diminish somewhat. Hut this 
year the embryo lawyers and doctors got out 
their books and went to reading with immense 

The women as a rule turn to the type-writer. 
I should judge that if every lawyer in the coun- 
try should desire to employ a force of from 
twenty to thirty type-writers they could all be 
supplied from the number of women in Wash- 
ington who have learned or are learning to ma- 
nipulate the machine. But as time has worn on, 
and the sweeping discharges have not been 
received, hope begins again to spring eternal in 
the department clerk's breast. 

When Mr. Higgins — think of free-born Ameri- 
can citizens being afraid of a man named Hig- 
gins! — came in as Appointment Clerk of the 
Treasury, where the largest numbers are em- 
ployed, a tidal wave of despair swept over that 
department. He was depicted as a fire-eater of 
the most terrific description, an ogre who could 
not eat his breakfast unless his appetite had 
previously been whetted by discharging a hun- 
dred or so starving women. Gloomy tales of 
his ferocity were whispered, but so far at least 
he has not lived up to his sanguinary reputation. 
He is interviewed every day or so by some enter- 
prising local reporter, and on one day is con- 
fidently stated to have said that sweeping changes 
were imminent. On the next he is authorita- 
tively reported to have declared that there will 
be no dismissals without cause. In Paris it is 
said that when a lover wishes to break off with 
his fiance he simply writes her a note saying, 
" I know all ! All is over between us." Whether 
he knows it or not, there always is something to 
know, and so the matter is terminated. So per 
haps it is the sensitive conscience of the govern 
ment clerk assuring him that there is " a cause " 
which make him so uneasy. 

One of the interesting events of the spring in 
Washington is the Commencement, or as it is 
called the Presentation Day, of the National 

Institute for the Deaf and Dumb. The pretty- 
group of picturesque buildings which includes 
the college, the preparatory school, the gymna- 
sium, the chapel, and the residences of the Pre- 
sident and professors, are located at Kendall 
Green, just outside the city limits. The grounds 
are beautifully green and fresh, and great crowds 
go out to the Commencement, although getting 
there involves a long ride in an odious little one- 
horse car, which bumps you over all the railroad 
tracks with what appears to be willful spiteful- 

It is impossible to describe the strange, myste- 
rious atmosphere which pervades this silent 
school. It seems strange, when you visit the 
gymnasium, to sec a lot of athletic young fel- 
lows tumbling around, with all sorts of fantastic 
twists and turns of their bodies, in obedience to 
the gesture of their young professor, without an 
audible sound. It seems even stranger to meet 
a smiling group of girls walking in the grounds, 
and not to hear the sound of their voices. But 
jtrangest of all, perhaps, is to see a swarm of 
active boys engaged in an animated game of 
baseball, running, racing and leaping, catching, 
pitching and batting with fiery energy, but with 
stony silence instead of the usual yells and 
shrieks which accompany the game. 

At the Commencement exercises the young 
orators step smilingly upon the stage, and de- 
liver their speeches apparently with every muscle 
of their bodies except the vocal ones. A pro- 
fessor reads the written orations, so that we 
know what all these gyrations arc about ; but it 
always seems a pity that the young orator 
should not get the benefit of the enthusiastic 
applause which breaks out when he concludes. 
Some of them deliver speeches viva voce, having 
been taught, although totally deaf, to sjicak 
mechanically; but the harsh, uncertain voice in 
which they s]>eak is not pleasant to listen to or 
easy to understand. 

President Cleveland made his appearance on 
the platform, in conformity to the usual presi- 
dential custom, and Mr. Hendricks would also 
have been there had he not been taking a little 
much-needed rest from his arduous vice presi- 
dential duties, at Atlantic City. The man who 
gave the ground for the college and was most 
influential in starting it, was Amos Kendall, 
Postmaster under President Jackson. One of 
his daughters, who was ^present at the Com- 
mencement, commented upon the pleasure it 
would have given her father to see a Democratic 
President on the platform. 

A pleasant feature of these occasions is the 
reception at the house of the President of the 
college, Dr. Gallaudet. His large, beautiful 
house is always fresh and fragrant, not only 
with the customary hot-house flosal decorations, 
but with great branches of laurel and dogwood 
and other early wild flowers. This gathering, 
which, unfortunately, was omitted this year 
owing to Mrs. Gallaudet's ill-health, is one of 
the last social reunions before the summer 
scattering. It is a delightful mingling of old 
residents and transients, where one sees all 
sorts of celebrities, social, literary and political, 
and, what is even more attractive, all the newest 
and freshest devices in spring toilet. 

Elsie Hathaway. 

Washington, May I4, 1885. 


Money cheap at Uncle Jacobs, 613 Pacific st. 
Take breakfast or lunch at Swain's, 213 Sutter. 

Drs. Darrin, magnetic physicians, 113 
Stockton street. Examination free. 

RELIABILITY of twenty-two years standing. 
Midler's optical depot, 135 Montgomery street. 

DELIGHTFUL weather for ladies and children 
to visit the Park. Refreshments at the Casino. 

A. W. Myer repairs fine and complicated 
watches and clocks, and warrants satisfaction. 
1014 Market street, opposite Fifth. 

Agents wanted for Tunison's New Atlas of 
the United States and World. Call on or ad- 
dress H. C. Tunison, 359 Minna street, S. F. 

Health HraiuV<l Hustle*. 

Made of the finest watch-spring wire. Eight 
cool, durable, fashionable. Price only $1. Call 
and see them at Freud's Corset House, 742 and 
744 Market and 10 and 12 Dupont streets; sole 
agency for the Pacific Coast. 

The latest rage in New York is language and 
nomenclature, and the Field famiy are taking 
hold of it vigorously. Cyrus W. recently found 
fault with many firmly fixed American names, 
and made a plea for Indian names, and now 
David Dudley in the Language Club attacks 
superfluity of words. He even thinks the Con- 
stitution faulty in the clause conferring upon 
Congress power to make all laws " necessary 
and proper for carrying into execution the fore- 
going powers," on the ground that if a law is 
necessary it is proper. True enough, but one 
does not need to be a great lawyer to know that 
laws are proper which are not strictly necessary. 
It is "proper" to pass a bankruptcy law, but 
not necessary. The Field family are great, but 
they have not produced anything which sur- 
passes the Federal Constitution in clearness, 
Compactness, and elegance of rhetorical expres- 
sion. Robert Collyer was at this same meeting 
of the Language Club, and thanked his stars 
that the clergy were guilty of no such waste of 
words as characterized the legal profession. — 
Springfield Republican. 



The Mechanics' Pavilion 

ON THE EVESIIIMJS OF MAY 28th, 2!»tli. 80th, JIM 1st and 2d 




THURSDAY Introductory Miscellaneous 

FRIDAY French Composers 

SATURDAY MATINEE Young People's Popular 

SATURDAY NIGHT First Wacner Programme 

MONDAY Spanish Programme 

TUESDAY Second Wagner Programme 

WEDNESDAY MATINEE Farewell Popular Programme 

The Concerts will be under the personal direction of 


Who will bring from New York his 

And the following Eminent Vocalists: 


MISS EMMA JUCH, So,,ra..o: 


MR. WILLIAM J. WINCH, re..„r : 




COURT SINGER FROM THE IMPERIAL OPERA, VIENNA. (Especially engaged by Mr. Thomas for 

his Concerts in San Francisco.) 


Kowrvi'il *<>ats. Single Concerts 1 According to Location $1 00, $3 00. $:« 00 

Box Seat*, Single Concert** (According tu Location) ,$4 00, $5 00 

Pale of Reserved Seats for Single Concerts now in progress at the Music Stores of M. GRAY, and SHER- 

SEYNOI R E. I.ot KE. Manager Thomas C oncerts. Occidental Hotel. 


Saturday and Sunday .nay 33d and 34th. 


From the Wigwam, and late of Barnum's Great Show, 
For Two Days Only. 

25 PONIES 25 

25 DOGS as 

25 GOATS 25 

THAT SPEAK with eloquent action, and perform in- 
credible feats. Cir\.us Ring in Pavilion. 
Champion Rifle Shot of the World, and a Corps of Cele- 
brated Gymnasts, Acrobats, etc. 
Saturday, May 23d, Picnic and Festival of the Teachers' 
Mutual Aid Society. 

Admission 10 cents and 3 5 cents. 




No printing matter on the Cigarette proper. Each Ci- 
garette is embossed with the brand. 



333-33.". Battery Street. 

Hat Store on this Coast, 
332-336 KEAENY ST., 

Bet. Bash and Pine Sts., San Francisco. 

Branch 1313-1314 Market, above Taylor. 

Send for Illustrated Catalogue. Mailed free. 

£T FOR THE FINEST |_j ^ ^ 


Do not fail to see our well selected stock of 
New Spring and Summer Styles 



Either Fire-proof, Burglar-proof, or Fire and Burglar- 
proof, a Bank Vault, Time Lock, or anything in the 
line of Safes, large or small, don't fail to call on 


211 and 213 California street. 
Safes sold on installments or taken in exchange. 

C. B. PARCELLS, Manager. 


AL. HAYMAN Lessee and Manager 

The Distinguished Author and Actor, 


In his New and Original five-act Comedy, entitled 


A picture of English Country Life and Character. 


AL. IIAYMAN Lessee and Manager 

Bvefj Evening, excepting Sunday. 

Triumph of David BelasCO*i Charming Comedy-Drama, 


Monday Evening, May 25th, the latest London success, 


F. W. STECHHAN Manager 

An Instantaneous Hit. 


The Cheerful Comedian, in Gunter's successful Melo- 
dramatic Comedy, 




M. B. LEAVITT Lessee and Proprietor. 

C. P. HALI Manager. 

A Thousand Laughs in a Thousand Seconds, at 


Monday Evening, May 25th, AIMEE in English, in 
Sardou's Satire on Married Life, Divorcons. 


Eddy Street, Near Market. 

KRELING BROS Sole Proprietors and Managers 

GRAND MATINEE, Saturday May 13d, at a p. m. 


By the Juvenile Comique Opera Company. 

Monday Evening, May 25th, Offenbach charming Opera 



AT the 

S. W. cor. Mason and Eddy Sts. 
Open Dally from 9 A. to 11 P. M. 



Importing, Manufacturing and Dispensing 


Everything new, first-class; large assortment. Market 
and Stockton sts. Store always open. 



A new play l>y the author of London Assur- 
ance is a far more than ordinary event in the 
current history of the stage. The play last 
named has so long occupied an acknowledged 
place among standard English comedies that we 
have almost ceased to regard it as the work of a 
contemporary. The Irish plays which have for 
the last twenty years been associated with the 
name of Boucicault as both author and actor, 
while among the best of their kind, are so 
totally different from his earlier work as almost 
to warrant the conclusion that time and the 
author have marched together away from the 
spirit of an earlier and perhaps more genuine 
and broad inspiration. The familiar phrase 
"the perennial Boucicault," carries with it, in 
the minds of the younger generation, a certain 
cheapening ot his dramatic and histrionic pow- 
ers. But while in botany there is a specific dis- 
tinction between " persistent " and " perennial " 
flowering plants, the difference is still more 
marked between those terms when applied to 
humanity. Mr. Boucicault is not a persistent 
actor who lags superfluous, etc., but he may well 
be described as perennial, renewing year by year 
the intellectual vigor and freshness of his youth. 
This oft repeated springtime in intellect, imag- 
ination and characterization, is indeed some- 
thing akin to the marvelous. What Ninon 
L'Euclos was among beauties Dion Boucicault 
is among dramatists. Time writes no wrinkles 
on his brow; and though he may not have been 
quite coeval with "creation's morn," yet there 
are few among us who can look back on the time 
when the name of Dion Boucicault was unknown 
to the stage and its literature. To be the 
author of London Assurance, and the originator 
of so salient and representative a character as 
'• Lady Gay Spanker," and yet continue an orna- 
ment to the modern stage, is very much like 
achieving immortality in the Hesh. Mr. Bouci- 
cault, in lieu of "handing down his name to 
posterity," has brought it down. 

And now, after so long an interval, his dra- 
matic genius has again budded, bloomed, and 
brought forth fruit as near as possible in kind 
and flavor to that which sprang from the same 
stem in the freshness and vigor of youth. The 
/ill is a play which has in it most of the elements 
that went to make up the sustained popularity 
of its early prototype, and there is no reason to 
doubt its continued hold on public estimation. 
The characters are all, as set forth in the cast, 
"types," and like all typical personages, con- 
tain a unification of many qualities usually 
represented in several individualities. But the 
types are well carried out, though perhaps on a 
somewhat e-pluribus-unum scale. Mr. Bouci- 
cault is especially fortunate in that his long 
experience and personal supervision insures a 
complete carrying out of his ideas as an author. 
A further advantage is that he has so excellent 
an actor as himself, and such careful and capable 
assistants in his company. In the " Myles 
O'Hara " of Mr. Boucicault there is no falling off 
worth noting in that life and go which has 
always formed so distinctive an element in his 
magnetic personality. Miss Louise Thorndyke 
was a graceful and fascinating " Kitty Wood- 
stock," and Mrs. L. E. Barker as " Mrs. Wetter " 
brought with her at each appearance a refreshing 
breath of that healthful, breezy country air that 
forms so delightfully genial an element in the 
old English comedy. The two young scions of 
the house of Boucicault are well placed as 
"Phyllis Wetter," the pet of the hunting-field, 
and "Geoff Tudor," a typical Eton boy. The 
former played her somewhat hoydenish part with 
the true innocent abandon of the genuine coun- 
try girl, so difficult of attainment by the more 
trained and artificial actress of longer experience. 
The entire company were more than satisfactory 
in their several parts. 

The large audience was an exceptionally ex- 
cellent one in point of intelligent appreciation. 
It is not often that one man appears on the stage 
as actor, and at the same time parent of both the 
play and two of the leading players. The en- 
thusiastic applause which cither directly or in- 
directly greeted Mr. Boucicault in all three 
capacities must have been highly gratifying. 
One of the prettiest sights of the evening was 
that of the father and his two children as they 
appeared before the curtain, and the partial fond- 
ness of his regard and encouraging praise add- 
ing a domestic interest to an altogether un- 
usually interesting evening. 

A great charm of the entire performance was 
the extreme naturalness of stage setting and sit- 
uation. This was particularly noticeable in the 
finale, where the characters, instead of arranging 
themselves in the conventional string behind 
the footlights, paired off as naturally as if no 
thought of the audience had occurred to them. 

The pretty May Blossom is as popular as ever 
at the Baldwin. Next week the Madison Square 
company will produce the London success, Im- 
pulse. The ladies and gentlemen of the company 
will appear in roles widely different from those 
they have sustained in May Blossom. Mr. Lewis 
Morrison has been "specially engaged" as a 
society villain; Miss Cayvan and Mr. Long will 
each enact a comedy role; Mr. Wheelock will 
assume the leading part— the husband of a run- 
away wife; Mr. Crompton will appear as a " fine 
old English gentleman," and Miss Adams as an 

old maid willing to be converted from the error 
of her ways. Impulse is a domestic play in which 
a story of human weakness, passion and devo- 
tion is varied by a thread of delightful comedy. 

Strictly Business, at the Standard, seems to 
be one of the plays that might " make a run," if 
the rule of short seasons in San Francisco could 
be set aside for once, in its favor. 

Peck's Bad Boy has continued to amuse the 
patrons of the Bush Street Theater. The sale 
of seats for Divorcons, Mile. Aimee, for next 
week, commenced on Wednesday, and promises 
a lively season. If there be one place in the 
United States where Aimee is ever sure of a 
welcome, that place is San Francisco. 

The last week of Die Iledermaus at the 
Tivoli, has drawn even more than the usual full 
attendance. At the Saturday matinee there will 
be a repetition of the delightful performance by 
the Juvenile Opera Company of H. M. S. Pina- 

The sale of single tickets for the coining 
Thomas musical festival commenced last Wed- 
nesday, and was very encouraging. There is 
always an advantage in securing a choice of 
seats by coming early, yet by the present ar- 
rangement of the Pavilion there will be none of 
the ditliculty heretofore experienced in hearing 
from any and all parts of the inclosed space. 
The first concert will be given Thursday even- 
ing, May 28th, with a carefully selected miscel- 
laneous programme. Friday evening will be 
devoted to French compositions; Saturday and 
Tuesday evenings, Wagner; Monday, a Spanish 
programme; and at Saturday and Wednesday 
matinees, popular music. One great promise 
of a generally satisfactory season is in the 
unusual variety offered. Mr. Thomas has wisely 
avoided a too exclusively classical programme, 
the great fault in so many musical entertain- 
ments intended for general enjoyment and im- 


At the Standard Strictly Business will be con- 
tinued next week. 

Ellwood, the I.eaton sisters, and other attrac- 
tions at the Fountain. 

At the Tivoli next week, Offenbach's Pretty 
Poacher will be produced. 

Mr. E. J. Buckley is playing in Dakolar, at 
Mackay's Lyceum Theater, New York. 

The Jilt continues at the California next week. 
All should see this most delightful of recent 

Mrs. W. E. Sheridan (Louise Davenport) has 
been ill and almost totally blind, but is rapidly 
recovering both health and sight. 

Miss Ellie Wilton is coming to San Francisco 
in June, having bought from Hartley Campbell 
the right of Separation for California. 

The profits of Miss Fanny Davenport's season 
of thirty weeks of Fedora, which closed at 
Minneapolis May 9th, were nearly $50,000. 

Nat Goodwin's latest absurdity, The Skating 
Rink, has made a hit under Frank Sanger's man- 
agement. Most of the characters, including a 
dog, appear on rollers. 

At the Baldwin next week, Impulse, to be fol- 
lowed, Monday, June 1st, by Fanny Davenport 
in Sardou's great play, Fedora. Sale of seats for 
Fedora begins Wednesday, May 27th. 

The erratic little French meteor who has so 
long flashed before a dazzled world as Aimee, is 
still above the horizon, and will appear next 
Monday, May 25th, at the Bush Street, in Divor- 

Miss Eva West's benefit at the Grand Opera 
House on Friday, May 30th, should call out a 
large audience. Her popularity as an ambitious 
and pleasing young actress, as well as her recent 
illness and bereavement, should appeal success- 
fully to the proverbially kind heart and generous 
hand of San Francisco. 

San Franciscans should not grumble at high 
prices at our theaters. King Louis of Bavaria 
paid 200,000 francs to see Theodora, besides hav- 
ing to do all the applauding himself. Of course, 
at this price there was a poor house — the King 
himself being the entire audience. This is 
Louis's whim, but I should think it would be 
lonesome going out between the acts. 

Messrs. Osbourne and Stockwell will have a 
benefit at the Baldwin Theater next Saturday 
night, when The Octoroon will be presented by 
the entire Madison Square company, aided by 
Osbourne and Stockwell. The name of cither 
of these San Francisco favorites should be 
enough to fill the house, and the two combined 
must crowd the Baldwin from gallery to orches- 

John Stetson announces the coming appear- 
ance of Mrs. Langtry and Miss Kate Fortescue, 
alias Garmoyle, in one piece. Two professional 
beauties starring on one stage will be something 
like the " Happy Family " in a menagerie. Bet- 
ter draw their teeth and clip their claws before 
they're turned loose together. It might also be 
a wise precaution for the ladies to wear false 
hair. They would probably have to, afterward. 

The last week of Fryer's Circus Equcscur- 
riculum at the Wigwam has been a continued 
success. To-day (Saturday, May 23d) and Sun- 
day, May 24th, the entire company, including 
Miss Lillian Smith, the wonderful rifle shot, 
acrobats, gymnasts, ponies, dogs and goats, will 
appear at Woodward's Gardens. The annual 

picnic for the benefit of the Teachers' Mutual 
Aid Society will be held at the Gardens to-day. 


Ovide Musin is said to be the favorite violinist 
since Ole Bull. 

The Schumann Club, under the direction of 
Mr. David Loring, gave a concert last night. 
Too late for notice this week. 

Mile. Nevada's regular attendance at mass is 
a source of great anxiety to the tender Mapleson. 
He fears that the atmosphere of a cold church 
may injure her high notes. 

Mr. Otto Bendix will give a piano recital at 
Irving Hall on Tuesday evening. May 26th. 
Mr. Bendix proposes taking up his residence in 
San Francisco, and devoting his time to giving 
musical instruction. 

The brilliant young flutist, Otto Oesterle, 
whose playing excited such admiration in 1883, 
is still in the Thomas Orchestra, and is down 
for a tarantclle (flute and clarionet) of Saint- 
Sa;ns, in the French programme, May 20th. 

Colonel Mapleson has mapped out a brilliant 
future for his favorite prima-donna. He pre- 
dicts that if Patti's devotion to the noble game 
continues to develop itself as startlingly as at 
present, the diva will soon open Craig-y-nos 
as a billiard hall, with herself as its high priest- 
ess, while the nimble Nicolini will find conge- 
nial occupation in "marking" and in handing 
drinks to the patrons of the establishment. 

Besides the two Wagner nights, Saturday and 
Tuesday, Mr. Thomas gives W agner music in 
the programmes of Thursday evening and Sat- 
urday afternoon. The "Wagner Handbook" 
contains interesting accounts of the Wagner 
operas, and is, besides, a handsome souvenir. 

The concert given last Tuesday by Our 
Orchestra, under the direction of Mr. J. H. 
Rosewald, was attended by a large and ap- 
preciative audience. It is seldom that so fine 
a house greets a performance of this kind in San 
Francisco. The warmest applause was accorded 
to the violin solo, " I Lombardi," by Mr. Rose- 
wald, which was given with characteristic per- 
fection of finish. The vocal soloist, Miss Belle 
Thorne, has a pleasant soprano voice. Miss 
Ella Lawrie was the accompanist. Under the 
experienced leadership of Mr. Rosewald, Our 
Orchestra is destined to take a permanent and 
most creditable place among our musical organ- 

The long-talked-of society opera under the di- 
rection of Signor Campobello was, as antici- 
pated, a social and financial success. The 
young amateurs surprised even their friends by 
the creditable manner in which they sustained 
their several parts. A musician alone could 
properly appreciate the untiring drill and at- 
tention to detail that had enabled Signor Cam- 
pobello to evolve so creditably even and satis- 
actory a performance from non-professionals. 
As is usual in similar undertakings, the lady 
amateurs took the lead in ease, voice, and 
adaptability. The two leading roles, " Figaro" 
and "Count Almaviva," by Herr Formes and 
Signor Campobello respectively, were all that 
could be desired. The young ladies looked 
lovely and sang very nicely, and were noticeably 
free from any bashfulness or stage fright. Two 
sweet little maidens, the " bridesmaids," whose 
names did not appear on the bill, did, indeed, at 
their first entrance, seem like two timid little 
songsters just ready to spread their tiembling 
wings and fly to covert; but under the kindly 
encouragement of friendly hands, they bravely 
rallied, and rendered their duct one of the pleas- 
antest features of the entertainment. The house 
was full of that generous and friendly enthusi- 
asm which usually gives encouragement to an 
amateur performance, anil, altogether, the 
opera, as an exhibition of local talent, was very 
gratifying. If Signor Campobello continues his 
efforts, he will soon, by the exercise of a little 
care in selecting his material, have an amateur 
opera company which will compare favorably 
with those of eastern cities. Dorothy. 



We are full of mechanical actions. We must 
needs intermeddle and have things in our own 
way, until the sacrifices and virtues of so- 
ciety are odious. Love should make joy; but 
our benvolence is unhappy. Our Sunday 
schools and churches and pauper societies are 
yokes to the neck. We pain ourselves to please 
nobody. Why should all virtue work in one 
and the same way? Why should all give dol- 
lars? — Ralph Waldo F.merson on Spiritual 
Laws . 

There is a merry bustle among the clergy just 
at present, and all of them, from Catholic to 
Methodist, are taking a hand — all on account 
of some generous-hearted young ladies who went 
to a good deal of expense and trouble for the 
purpose of assisting Grace Church. Their ef- 
forts took the form of a high-class, decorously 
conducted operatic entertainment. 

With the utmost respect for their general 
good sense, it must be confessed that the rever- 
end advisors of the community sometimes make 
themselves faintly absurd. They appear to be 
spoiling for a controversy, and often, like im- 

perfect guns, go off half-cocked before the tai 
is well sighted. This fusillade against amn 
theatricals is impolite and uncharitable. Il 
local churches want to take action in this mai 
ter, it would be seemly to do it six months or a 
year from now, when the strictures would not 
appear to have any immediate personal appli- 
cation. This is a free country, and it is not for 
any one person or class of persons to say how 
much prejudice, provincialism or bigotry mayor 
may not be permitted. But deeds of charity 
should be granted, under any circumstances, the 
amiable indulgence due to good intentions so 
carried out that they result in substantial benefit 
to the church. 

The clergyman, of whatever denomination, 
who stirs up the question of what may or may 
not be done for charity, or permitted for religion's 
sake, will presently find himself in deep water. 
It is only in a raw, impulsive community that 
such a thing would be dreamed of. In all the 
older cities, and in both the old and new worlds, 
it has long been an unwritten but steadfast law 
that deeds of charity, anything in short covered 
by that magic word, should be handled pleas- 
antly and agreeably. It is not only a question 
of Christian spirit and good taste, but one of 
mutual comfort. One discussion provokes an- 
other, and as long as human nature holds its 
own there will be something to find fault with 
in every church and every community. If one 
form of church entertainment is to be criticized, 
let all come up for analysis. If one is to be 
abolished, let all share the same fate. 

To speak, for instance, concerning revival 
meetings would be unkind. Although a volume 
might be written about the mental and spiritual 
harm of promiscuous prayer-meetings under cir- 
cumstances of frantic excitement, the argument 
does not become this page. To pursue it would 
be in scarcely better taste than were those 
ministers who passed the resolution against 
amateur opera. It would not do to recall the 
scandals connected with various and sundry 
Sunday school picnics which have taken place 
in the course of time. As long as human nature 
holds its own the wrong will sometimes be upper- 
most, and churches cannot deny the facts nor 
legislate human nature entirely out of existence. 

Shall church fairs be given up because at 6ne 
of them a foolish girl once made an unworthy 
acquaintance and lost her good name through 
the selling of a batch of sacred lottery tickets? 
As well tear down the sanctuaries, because, in 
the legend that expresses the whole truth of life, 
Mephistophcles made Faust make his first im- 
pression on Marguerite at the church door. 

The lesson is not that there is much evil about 
the churches, but that natures inherently weak 
or wicked are pretty sure to turn to their ap- 
pointed destinies wherever they may be. You 
may prop them on as many sides as you will, 
but some day or other, in spite of all your pains, 
they will suddenly collapse. 

The question of church customs or entertain- 
ments is too vast a one to be carelessly stirred 
up. Acrimonious discussion, hard words, and 
blows straight out from the shoulder, doing 
plenty of damage, would result. We should live 
and let live. Give society time, and it will judi- 
ciously regulate its own affairs, without the 
necessity for wars, revolutions or resolutions. 

If the ladies of Grace Church, whose siqx'riors 
are not to be found in any similar circle the 
world over, indorse an entertainment, it should 
be enough for this community that they do so. 
Apropos of this subject, incendiary resolutions 
and pulpit harangues of the severe kind are un- 
kind, unseemly, and unsanctioned by any law of 
custom or observance. A more elevated, refined 
and praiseworthy entertainment than // Nozze 
di Figaro, with its chaste music and modest cos- 
tumes, could not be given. Far better a young 
girl should stand before the footlights and sing 
that divine air of Cherubino's so often heard in 
churches, for instance, than that she should 
stand in a bazar, and, plucking at the sleeves of 
masculine passers-by, implore them with her 
most coquettish and enticing wiles to buy her 
wares for charity's sake. There is less of per- 
sonal contact and more of personal dignity in 
the first than in the second. But let one be no 
reflection on the other. Comparisons arc odi- 
ous, and should be unnecessary. How much, 
how very much, of the church wealth, influence 
and prosperity is due to the church entertain- 
ments, the church alone can tell. 

Well brought up young ladies are not so weak 
this nineteenth century as over-anxious clergy- 
men imagine. A certain number of women arc 
bound to drift from private lilc to the stage 
under any circumstances; but bright, sensible 
girls are not too willing to undertake the drudg- 
ery and misery of an over-stocked profession 
from which the glamor is daily departing. Opera- 
boxes, decolleti dresses, society personals, and a 
dozen other things, are better calculated than 
amateur opera to foster indiscreet vanity. 

Remembering the vast amount of substantial 
good that has been done through charitable 
entertainments, it behooves the community, 
clergy and all, to consider with gratitude the 
efforts of our charitably disposed society women, 
and to accept as appropriate any form of enter- 
tainment they approve; for where can better 
guides be found? Certainly not among men 
who judge of these things only by hearsay, and 
theorize upon facts with which they are not per- 
sonally familiar. 



In one of his injunctions of 1552, Archbishop Holgate, 
of York, ordered that " the vergers do attend choir in 
divine-service time for the expulsion of beggars, other 
light persons, and dogs forth of the church." That this 
practice prevailed at least two years earlier is proved by 
the churchwarden's accounts at I.outh, in Lincolnshire, 
to which we previously referred. The office of Dog- 
whipper is referred to in Lodge and Green's Looking-glass 
for London and England— a. curious work, published in 
1594— in these words: "A gentleman! good sir; I 
remember you well, and all your progenitors. Your 
father bore office in our town. An honest man he was, 
and in great discredit in the parish, for they bestowed two 
squire's livings on him; the one on working-days, and 
then he kept the town stage; and on holidays they made 
him the sexton's man, for he whipped the dogs out of 
the church. Methinks I see the gentleman still ; a proper 
youth he was, faith, aged some forty and ten; his beard, 
rat's colour, half-black, half-white; his nose was in the 
highest degree of noses, it was nose autem g/orificans, so 
set with rubies, that after his death it should have been 
nailed up in Cop|>ersmith's Hall for a monument." 

Whether old Scarlett — the well-known sexton of Peter- 
borough, discharged the duties of dog-whipper in addition 
to that of sexton, we are unable to state with any degree 
of certainty. In his portrait on the west wall of the 
cathedral he is, however, depicted as wearing a whip in 
his belt ; but he may have required it to drive off the 
juveniles during the discharge of his duties as sexton. 
The painting also shows that famous man with five keys 
in his hand, which may indicate that he also discharged 
the duties of apparitor in addition to that of sexton, so 
that old Scarlett may have been one of the first dog- 
whippers in this country. He died in 1591, at the age of 

We gather from the parish accounts that the dog- 
whipper at Bray, in Berkshire, was provided with "a jer- 
kin," to indicate his official position, at a cost of six 
shillings and fourpence. The same individual appears to 
have whipped not only dogs but rogues out of the church ; 
and was at a later date furnished with a surplice and a 
coat, which cost ten shillings. The item paid to Richard 
Turner for whipping "the doggs out of the church" at 
Morton, in Derbyshire, in 1622, was one shilling. 

It has been affirmed that the Puritans introduced dogs 
in the church in order to show their contempt for conse- 
crated places. Whether this were so or not, the presence 
of dogs became, in the larger churches, such a nuisance 
that an official, called the dog-whipper or dog-" knawper," 
was specially appointed to drive dogs from the sacred 
edifice, the office having previously been held by the sex- 
ton or apparitor, as a rule. The close railing about the 
altars was first introduced about this period, so that the 
sacrarium and the holy table might be protected from 
desecration and pollution by these quadrupeds. In the 
hooks of Goosnargh, near Preston, Lancashire, under 
date April 10, 1705, we find that the sexton had to " whip 
the dogs out" of the church "every Lord's day," in 
addition to other duties. 

The remuneration of dog-whippers and sluggard-wakers 
varied according to circumstances — from ninepence a 
year to seven shillings. On his appointment to the office 
of sexton at St. Mary's Church, Reading, in 1571, John 
Marshall " undertook to have the church swept, the mats 
beaten, the windows cleaned, and all things done neces- 
sary to the good and cleanly keeping of the church, and 
the quiet of divine service, for the sum of thirteen shil- 
lings and fourpence, paid annually." The dog-whipper 
at Great Staughton, in Huntingdonshire, received one 
shilling in 1652 for the discharge of his duties in respect 
to the canine race for three months. Nearly a century 
later, in 1736, the salary of thirteen shillings was received, 
in addition to a new r coat every other year, by one George 
Grimshaw for his manifold services in Prestwich Church 
in waking sleepers, whipping out dogs, keeping the chil- 
dren quiet, and the pulpit and church walks clean. The 
sexton at Barton-on-Humber formerly received "four 
shillings and fourpence by the year from the church- 
wardens for dog-w hipping " ; so we gather from an undated 
" Survey " relating to the vicarage. In 1764 there was 
paid to one James Warrington the sum of three shillings 
and fourpence " for waking the church." 

In Northorpe Church, a " Hall-dog pew " was formerly 
set apart for the use of that portion of the canine race 
which were favored with homes at Northorpe Hall. It is 
the only one which has come to our know ledge ; but there 
was probably similar accommodation provided lor the 
dogs of the gentry in other parts of the country. 

In admonishing young people the author of A Choice 
Drop of Seraphic Lore, said: "Remember the Sabbath 
day to keep it holy, and carefully attend the worship of 
God; but bring no dogs with you to church; those 
Christians surely do not consider where they are going 
when they bring dogs with them to the assembly of divine 
worship, disturbing the congregation with their noise and 
clamour. Be thou careful, I say, of this scandalous thing, 
which all ought to be advised against as indecent." At 
this time, a footman was often seen "following his lady 
to church, with a large Common Prayer-book under one 
arm, and a snarling cur under the other." 

The Rev. William Paul, D. I)., minister of Banchory- 
Devenick, in his entertaining reminiscences of seventy 
years, published in 1881, under the title of Past and 
Present Aberdeenshire, affirms that many years ago min- 
isters in Scotland " were much annoyed by dogs, which 
were allowed by their owners to follow them to church. 
In consequence of the disturbance and distraction thus 
created during divine service, it was part of the beadle's 
duty to put dogs out. For this purpose in some parishes 
he kept an instrument called ' a clip,' of the construction 
of a blacksmith's tongs, and having long wooden handles 
with a joint near the point, by which, without injury to 
himself, he could lay hold of the intruding animal and 
drag him out. These instruments were not in use in my 
time ; but the late minister of Durris told me," continues 

Dr. Paul, " that one of his friends being annoyed by a 
dog during the delivery of his sermon, and being unable 
to bear it any longer, said to his beadle : ' Peter, man, 
canna ye put out that dug?' ' Na,' said Peter; 'he 
winna gang oot, sir.' 'Canna ye clip him, then?' said 
the minister. ' Na, sir,' said Peter; ' I canna dee't ; he's 
a terrible surlylike beast, an' I'm feart at him.'" 

Mr. Grant, the predecessor of Dr. Paul's friend, the 
late wwthy minister of Methlick, was at one period of 
his ministry much annoyed by dogs during divine service 
in the church, and had found clip and beadle and much 
scolding ot the congregation alike ineffectual for ridding 
him of the annoyance. On one occasion he found an 
unexpected ally who did him good service. He was 
preaching with great animation and vigOr, as usual, w hen 
a large black dog came stepping up the passage with 
great formality, moving his long tail from side to side, 
and sniffing at the entrance of every seat, in order to find 
out his master. As bad luck for him would have it, he 
stopped at one of the seats where a rough, half-witted- 
looking fellow was sitting with his chin leaning upon a 
stick, which he clasped with both his hands. The fel- 
low, thinking that the dog was stopping in order to bite, 
gave him a smart blow upon the nose, and down fell the 
dog stunned at his feet. On seeing this, the minister 
was greatly delighted, and having halted, said to the man, 
with great emphasis, "Thank you for that, sir," and 
then proceeded with his discourse. 

Early in the present century, the minister of Old Mel- 
drum, named Harry Likely, was a very eccentric char- 
acter. One day when preaching, he suddenly paused, 
and said to the beadle: "Tammas, put out that dog 
there that's lyin' in the pass; he's like to gar me laugh, 
gashin' an' gnappin' there at the fleas. Put him out, 
man, an' dinna miss a thud o' him till ye hae him bye 
Nether Fowlie's door; and haste ye back to the wor- 

Dr. John Brown, a dear friend of dogs, relates the 
story of the first dog he ever owned. It was rescued 
from drowning by his brother, and was a remarkable dog, 
" without one good feature, except his teeth and eyes 
and his bark.'' It was named Toby. "Toby was 
usually nowhere to be seen on my father leaving," 
writes his genial biographer; "he, however, saw him, 
and up Leith Walk he kept him in view from the oppo- 
site side, like a detective; and then, when he knew it 
was hopeless to hound him home, he crossed unblush- 
ingly over, and joined company." Dr. Brown's father 
was a clergyman, and one Sunday, Toby had gone with 
him to church, and left him at the vestry door. "The 
second psalm was given out, and my father was sitting 
back in the pulpit, when the door at its back, up which 
he came from the vestry, was seen to move and gently 
open; then, after a long pause, a black, shining snout 

Eushed its way steadily into the church, and was followed 
y Toby's entire body. He looked somewhat abashed ; 
but sniffiing his friend, he advanced as if on thin ice; 
and not seeing him, put his fore legs on the pulpit, and, 
behold ! there he was, his own familiar chum. I watched 
all this, and anything more beautiful than his look of 
happiness, of comfort, of entire ease, when he beheld his 
friend, the smoothing dow n of the anxious ears, the swing 
of gladness of that mighty tail, I don't expect soon to 
see. My father quietly opened the door, and Toby was 
at his feet, and invisible to all but himself. Had he sent 
old George, the minister's man, to put him out, Toby 
would probably have shown his teeth, and astonished 

When Her Majesty attended Crathie Church for the 
first time, the clergyman was followed up the pulpit 
stairs by a large dog, which reclined against the door 
during the delivery of the sermon. The minister in at- 
tendance on the Queen remonstrated with the clergyman. 
On the next Sabbath day the dog was not at church. A 
day or two afterwards, whilst dining at Belmoral, the 
clergyman was asked by Her Majesty to explain the 
cause of the absence of the animal from church. He ex- 
plained that he had been informed that the dog's pres- 
ence has annoyed the Queen. " Not at all," was her 
royal response; "pray, let him come as usual. I wish 
everybody behaved as well at church as your noble dog." 

A clergyman from Edinburgh, officiating at a country 
kirk, could not comprehend why the congregation kept 
their seats when he rose to pronounce the benediction, 
instead of standing up, as was then the custom in Scot- 
land. Seeing his embarrassment, the precentor, who had 
guessed its cause, called out : " Say awa', sir, say awa'; 
it's joost to cheat the dowgs !" 

We have only dealt with the subject as far as it relates 
to Great Britain ; but the necessity for appointing dog- 
whippers and sluggard-wakers has existed across the 
Atlantic, and elsewhere. Here are instances: As a 
clergyman in Connecticut was reading one of the lessons 
for the day, he noticed a surly-looking dog frisking along 
the aisle, evidently in search of something upon which he 
might exercise his mischievous bent. Soon he secured a 
hat which was placed outside one of the pews. The 
owner seeing this, and objecting to this unceremonious 
proceeding with his chapeau, poked him with a cine, 
hoping thereby that he might regain his headgear. The 
cur was disobliging. The sexton soon appeared on the 
scene. The dog then beat a hasty retreat with his prize. 
Some of the congregation joined in the chase ; but after 
cleverly dodging his pursuers for some time, the dog 
reached the door, making off with what remained of the 
gentleman's hat. 

During his visit to Serna, Du Chaillu tells us in his 
Midnight Sun that on ascending the pulpit he " saw 
near the Bible what resembled a policeman's club, at the 
end of which was a thick piece of leather, the whole re- 
minding me of a martinet. This had been used, until 
within a few years, to awake the sleepers; the parson 
striking the pulpit with it very forcibly, thus compelling 
attention. Near the pulpit was a long pole, rounded at 
one end, with which the sexton, it appears, used to poke 
the ribs of sleepers. These two implements, intended to 
keep the church awake, were used extensively in many 
out-of-the-way places in Sweden twenty or thirty years 

ago, and here till within a few years, but were discon- 
tinued by the present pastor. Now, pinches of strong 
snuff are often offered to the sleeper, who, after sneez- 
ing for a considerable time, finds his drowsiness entirely 
gone." — Chambers's Journal 


The number of mules attached to the h,earse denotes 
the respectability of a funeral at Rio Janeiro. 

Eve introduced the fall styles, but the persons who in- 
troduced the spring styles seem to be unknown. 

" No, sir," he said to the captain, " I'm not sea-sick, 
but I'm deucedly disgusted with the motion of this ves- 

Our Boston girls never use the expression " ghost of a 
chance " nowadays. " Wraith of an opportunity " is con- 
sidered much better form. 

Mr. Gladstone's cowardice is enough to make every 
English-speaking man feel ashamed of himself. We have 
stopped Mr. Gladstone's paper. 

Judging from the length of the time the Reverend Mr. 
Harrison has been known as " the boy preacher," he 
must be in his second childhood. 

Did you ever notice how much more you walk on the 
foot with the corn on it than on the other one? You 
hardly notice the other one at all. 

A receipt for lemon pie vaguely adds: " Then sit on a 
hot stove and stir constantly." Just as if anybody could 
sit on a hot stove without stirring constantly. 

Say that a Scotchman can't make a joke! The magis- 
trates of Aberdeen have solemnly given it as their opinion 
that it is unlaw ful to take spirits out of an empty cask. 

"An Indiana voung lady has invented a piano-stool that 
rests the back." The next step in the march of improve- 
ments is to invent a piano that will rest the neighborhood. 

" On the Point of Attack " is the title of a new novel. 
If the heading means anything, it is probably the experi- 
ence of a man walking around at two a. m. in his bare 

A German paper says a proposal has been made to 
found a " Richard Wagner Musik Schule " in Bayreuth. 
We should say that a spelling schule would be more val- 

The latest choice boarding-house horror is rock and 
rye bread. It is made of. rye meal, and is as hard as a 
rock. Landladies and dentists have formed a pool to 
push it. 

According to an exchange, " this is a nation of egg- 
eaters." A lately returned lecturer, who has traveled over 
a large portion of the West, does not believe all the eggs 
are eaten. 

Patti is said to have a special fondness for billiards. 
The neatest compliment, therefore, which an audience 
can pay her is to send all the baldheaded men up to the 
front seats. 

The retention of Mr. James Russell Lowell as a pro- 
fessor at Oxford is just like the English. Give them an 
inch and they w ill take an ell. In this case it will be two 
ells — Russ-ell Low-ell. 

A newspaper paragraph says that " mosquitoes have 
made their appearances in southern New Jersey." To 
this information we may add that coals have made their 
appearance in Newcastle. 

The convicts at the Ohio penitentiary were each given 
three hard-boiled eggs on Easter Sunday morning. Every 
year the Ohio authorities are making the penitentiary 
harsher and more offensive. 

The average editor can sit in his office all day showing 
the people how a great nation should be run, and then go 
home and be governed by a black-haired little woman 
not over four and a half feet high. 

Posted in the lobby of a church : "Notice. — The per- 
son who stole Songs of the Sanctuary from seat No. 32, 
should improve the opportunity of singing them here, as 
he w ill have no occasion to sing them hereafter." 

" Pa, who was Shylock ? " Pater familias (with a look of 
surprise and horror) — "Great goodness, boy; you attend 
church and Sunday school every week, and don't know 
who Shylock was? Go and read your Bible, sir." 

Were honeymoons, like college commencements, held 
at the end of the term, it kind of rather sort ot appears 
to us that the county clerks wouldn't sell enough marriage 
licenses to keep them in clay pipes and scrap tobacco. 

It having been brought to the notice of a tramp who 
was mentally enfeebled that there were authenticated 
instances of weakness of the mind having been cured by 
work, he smiled idiotically and inquired, " Who wants to 
be cured? " 

At Adrian, Michigan, a lady saw an engine house with 
a steeple, and innocently asked a gentleman attendant 
"What church is that? The gentleman, after reading 
the sign, " Deluge, No. 3," replied : " I guess it must be 
the Third Baptist." 

Mr. Sullivan, Boston, who was not permitted to exhibit 
his knocking-out powers in the Quaker City, says he was 
never in a town where there was so little culture, and 
such a marked absence of love for the higher arts, as he 
saw in Philadelphia. 

A Michigan paper with considerable display, publishes 
a recipe for a meatless tomato-soup. This ought to be 
easy. All you have to do is to leave the meat out ; but 
let some one try a tomatoless tomato soup if he wants to 
earn a name for himself. 



Some strange cases of antipathy are recorded 
in the lives of eminent men. Erasmus was 
made feverish by the smell of fish. Ambroise 
Parr had a patient who would faint at the sight 
of an eel, and another who was convulsed on 
seeing a carp. Gardan was disgusted at the 
sight of eggs. A king of Poland and a secretary 
of France bled at the nose when offered apples. 
_A huntsman in Hanover, who would attack a 
"wild boar valiantly, ran away or fainted when- 
ever roast pig was presented to his view. A 
person is toldof who fainted whenever he saw a 
rose, and similar stories are told of antipathies 
to lilies and honey. Tycho Hrahe abhorred 
foxes, Henry III, of France, cats, mice, spiders, 
etc., and Marshal d'Albret pigs. There was 
"once upon a time" a lady who could not 
endure the sight of silk or satin. The man who 
would faint whenever he heard a servant sweep- 
ing is not so much of a stranger, and the one 
who was similarly affected by the sound of a 
bagpipe invites universal sympathy. Boyle was 
overcome at hearing the splashing of water. 

It is a narrow-minded philosopher who fears 
for the perpetuity of religion. The work ol the 
church is no craze of the hour, and yet who can 
have read the religious announcements made in 
these columns without having been moved at the 
apparently limitless nature of that work in our 
nation? And even those announcements, too, 
must, of necessity, be incomplete as to number. 
If a citizen of Chicngo pass a vacant square of 
ground of a pleasant afternoon, he may usually 
see a large concourse of boys at play. Not one 
of those boys saw the Chicago fire. So, too, all 
through the land there gather religious assem- 
blies, the average age of whose members could 
carry a man back no further than the Mexican 
war. The forces of the church, as viewed by a 
patriarch, seem an entirely new levy, and yet no 
one lays down his arms. It is no wooden ball 
with a rubber cord; it is no blue glass; it is no 
sunflower; it is no condurango; it is no roller- 
rink. It is the everlasting need of the human 
soul. — Cu rrent. 

A St. Louis police official says the three 
great causes of suicide in the order named are 
sickness, loss of money, and disappointed love. 
His investigations lead him to the conclusion 
that one case of suicide is followed by a rapid 
succession of others traceable to the same cause 
as the first. He notes as a singular circum- 
stance that suicide is openly commended by 
many visitors to the morgue. 

In Paris a telephonic ticket at half a franc is 
issued at any of the postoffices, which entitled 
the holder to a five minutes' conversation with 
persons at any other of the city postoffices, or 
at any of the Telephonic Company's stations. 
The Telephonic Company offers, at the same 
rate, conversations at any of its eleven stations 
with persons at any other station, or at the resi- 
dence of any of its members. 

"The ten thousand landlords in Great Britain 
without toil receive from the soil more than 
twice as much as the total wages paid to eight 
hundred and fifty thousand laborers for working 
twelve hours through the seven days in every 
week." And yet, in spite of these facts, people 
will persist in being laborers rather than land- 

The Princess Pauline Metternich has recently 
taken a prize of forty ducats and a lapis lazuli 
cup at a Vienna cattle-show for the best fat 
sheep. . 


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Steamers leave Wharf, corner First and Brannan streets, 
at 2 o'clock, p. m., for 

Connecting at Yokohama with steamers for Shanghae. 

Steamer. From San Francisco. 




EXCURSION TICKETS to Yokohama and return 
at reduced rates. 

Cabin plans on exhibition and Passage Tickets on sale 
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For freight apply to GEO. H. RICE, Freight Agent, 
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The splendid new 3,000-ton Steamships will leave the 
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For further particulars apply to 

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Jambs C. Flood, President; 

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Watches and Jewelry Repaired and Warranted. 





S8.00 a. 

8.00 a. 
t.4.00 p. 

7.30 a. 

7.30 ». 
^•30 p. 

8.00 a. 

4.00 pt 
.5.00 p. 

8.00 ft. 
T8.00 a. 

3 - 30 p- 
7.00 p. 

10.00 a . 
3.00 p. 
7.00 p. 
7.30 a. 
8 . 00 a. 
7 30 a. 
3.00 p. 

4 00 p. 
14.00 p. 

8 -oo a . 
2 10.00 a . 

3 00 p. 

8.00 a. 
t g . 30 ft. 
f 3-3Q P- 
tg-30 a. 

From April <S, 1 B85. 

. Byron 

. Caltstoga and Napa. . 


Delta, Redding and Portland. 

. Gait via Martinez 

.lone via Livermore 

. Knight's Landing 

.Livermore and Pleasanton.. . . 

. Martinez 

. Milton 

Mojave, Deming, i Kxprcss.. 

Kl Paso and East | Emigrant. 
.Nilesand Haywards 

Ogden and East I Express 

11 ** *' I Emigrant . . 

.Red Bluff via Marysville 

.Sacramento, via Livermore... 

'* via Renicia 

1 via lienieia 

" via Henicia 

. Sacramento River Steamers . . 
. San Jose 

.Stockton, via Livermore. 

** via Martinez. . 

11 via Martinez. . 
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. .36. io p. 

. t io. to a. 

. . .6. to p. 

.. .5.40 p. 

. . .6.40 p. 

. 1 10.40 a . 

...5.40 p. 

. . to. to a. 

. . t8-4o a. 

6. 10 p. 

,..17.10 p. 

. . 10.40 a . 
6. 10 a. 

.. 340 P- 
, . . 1 1 . 10 a ■ 

9.40 a . 

,...5.-40 p. 
....5.40 p. 

...6.40 p. 
...ii. to a . 
. . .10. 10 a. 
. . . *6.oo a. 

- .t 3 .4op. 
,..fl3. 40 p. 
. . . . 9 . 40 a . 
, .. .5.40 p. 
...t 7 .iop. 
. . t to.40 ft. 
. . . h. to p. 

a for morning. 

p for afternoon. 


From "SAN FRANCISCO" Dally. 

TO EAST OAKLAND— *6. 00. *6. 3 o, 7.00, 7.30, 8.00, 
8.30, 9. 00, 9.30, io.oo, 10.30, 11.00, 11 30, 12.00, 12.30, 
1. 00, 1.30, 2 00, 2.30, 3.00, 3.30, 4.00, 4.30, 5.00, 5.30, 

6.00, 6.3O, 7.OO, 8.OO, 9.OO, IO.OO, II.OO, *I2.00. 

TO FRUIT V ALE— *6.oo, '6.30, *j 00, '7.30, *8.oo, 
*8.30, *3-30, *4 00, *4-30, *5.oo, *5. 3 o, *6.oo, *6.30, 9.00. 
TO FRUIT VALE (via Alameda)— '9.30, 6.30, Jii.oo, 


TO ALAMEDA — *6.oo, *6.3o, 7.00, *7. 3 o, 8.00, *8. 3 o, 
9.00, 9.30, 10.00, [10,30. 11.00, tn.30, 12.00, [12.30, 
1. 00, ti.30, 2.00, 3.00, 3.30, 4.00, 4.30, 5.00, 5.30, 6.00, 

6.3O, 7.OO, 8.00, 9.OO, IO.OO, II.OO, *I2.00. 

TO BERKELEY— *6. 00, *6-3o, 7.00, '7.30, 8.00, *8. 30, 
9.00, {9.30, 10.00, tio.30, 11.00, tn.30, 12.00, 1. 00, 2.00, 
3.00, 4.00, 4.30, 5.00, 5.30, 6.00, 6.30, 7.00, 8.00, 9.00, 

IO.OO, II.OO, *I2.00. 

TO WEST BERKELEY— *6.oo,*6. 3 o, 7 00, *7. 3 o,t8.oo, 
*8-30, 9.00, 10.00, 11.00, Ji.oo, 2.00, 3.00, 4.00, *4-3o, 
5.00, *5-3o, 6.00, *6. 3 o, 7.00. 


FROM FRUIT VALE— »6.2 3 , '6.53, *7.2 3 , •7.53, *8.2 3 , 

•8.53, *9.23, *io.2i, *4.23, *4-53i *5- 2 3. *5-53p '6.13, 

•6.53, 7.25, 9.50. 
FROM FRUIT VALE (via Alameda)— * 5 .i 5 , * 5 . 4 5, 

{6.45, t9-'5. *3-'5- 
FROM EAST OAKLAND— * 5 . 3 o, *6.oo, 6.30, 7.00, 

7.30, 8.00, 8.30, 9.00, 9.30, 10.00, 10.30, 11.00, 11.30, 

I2.00, 12.30, I.OO, I.30, 2.00, 2.30, 3.00, 3.30, 4.00, 4.30, 

5.00, 5.30, 6.00, 6.30, 7.00, 7.57, 8.57, 9.57, 10.57. 

FROM BROADWAY (Oakland)— *$■ 37, *6 07, 6.37, 
7- r 7t 1-yii 8.07, 8.37, 9.07, 9.37, 10.07, IO -37» n.07, 
11.37, 12.07, '2-37. I-07. '-37. 2 07, 2.37, 3.07, 3.37, 4.07, 
4.37, 5.07, 5.37, 6.07, 6.37, 7.07, 8.06, 9.06, 10.06, 11.06. 

FROM ALAMEDA — (5.22, (5.52, 16.22, 6.52, (7.22, 

7.52, t8.22, 8.52, 9.22, 9.52, tlO.22, IO.52, tll.22, II.52, 
}l2.22, 12.52, fl.22, I.52, 2.52, 3.22, 3.52, 4.22, 4.52, 
5.22, 5.52, 6.22, 6.52, 7.52, 8.52, 9.52. IO.52. 

FROM BERKELEY — 15.15, t 5 .4 5 , t6.i 5 , 6.45, t-.<5, 

7-45. '8-15. 8.45, t9-'5. 0.45, tio.15, 10.45, ««>«Si "-45. 

12.45, i-4S. 2.45, 3.45, 4.15,4.45,5.15,5.45,6.15,6.45, 

7.45, 8.45, 9.45, 10.45. 
FROM WEST BERKELEY— ts. 45, t6.i5, 6.45, t 7 .i5, 

7.45, 8.45, t9-'5. 9-45. io-45. ti2.45. r-45. 2.45i 3-45. 

4.45, 15.15. 5.45, 16.15, 6.45, 17.15. 


FROM SAN FRANCISCO — (7.15, 9.15, n. 15, 1.15, 
3-'5. 5-i5- 

FROM OAKLAND— t6.i5, 8. 115, 10.15, 12-15. 2.15, 4.15. 
* or t Sundays excepted. \ Sundays only. 

Pacific Standard Time furnished by Randolph & Co., 
101 Montgomery street, San Francisco. 


Gen. Manager. 

T. II. 4.00IMI V V 

Gen. Pass. & Tlet. Agt. 



Passenger trains leave and arrive at Depot, Townsend 
street, between Third and Fourth, San Francisco. 


S. F. 

Commencing; Hay 11, 1 arrive 
1885. 1 S. F. 

8.30 a . . . . 
10.40 a . . . . 

ti.30 p 

•3.30 p .... 

4.25 p 

•5.15 p . . . . 

6.30 p 

tn.45 P 

San Mateo, Redwood and 
Menlo Park. 

6.40 a 


.... 9.03 a 
.... * 10.02 a 
.... '3.36 p 
.... I4.59 p 
.... 6.00 p 


.... tS.i S p 

8.30 ..... 
10.40 a . . . . 
•3.30 p . . . . 

4.25 p 

Santa Clara, San Jose and 
Principal Way Stations. 

.... 9.03 a 

"10.02 a 

.... '3.36 p 
.... 6.00 p 
.... 18.15 p 

10.40 a . . . • 
•3.30 p — 

J (iilroy, Pajaro, Castroville, \ 
1 Salinas and Monterey. I 

.... * 10.02 a 
.... 6.00 p 

10.40 a .... 
•3.30 p 

( Watsouville, ( amp Good- 
J all, Aptos, New Brighton, 
j Soquel (Camp Capitola), 
I and Santa Cruz. 

.... • 10.02 a 
.... 6.00 p 

(7.50 a . . . 

1 Monurcy and Santa Cru/ I 
1 (Sunday Excursion.) ! 

.... (8.55P 

10.40 a . . . . 
•3.30 p 

{ Hollislcr and Tres Pinos. } | ] ^ .' | * *6.'^ p 

10.40 a .... I Soledad and Way Stations. I . 

6.00 p 

•Sundays excepted ; (Sundays only ; a morning; p 
afternoon \ (Theater train (Saturdays only). 
Trains are run on Pacific Standard Time, furnished by 
Randolph & Co. 

STACK CONNECTIONS are made with the 10.40 
a. m. Train, except Pkscadkho stages via San Mateo and 
Redwood, and Pacific Congress Springs stages via 
Santa C/uz, which connect with 8 30 a. m. Train. 


rates — to Monterey, Aptos, So<]ueI, Santa Cruz and Pes- 

cadcro; also to Gilroy, Paraiso and Paso Rubles Springs. 

I \ < I union TICKETS 

i-» c j 1 I Sold Sunday morning; good for 

For Sunday, only, j re , um mm d / y 

For Saturday, 1 Sold on Saturday and Sunday only. 
Sunday and > Good for return until following Mon- 
Monday. ) day, inclusive. 
Ticket Offices. — Passenger Depot, Townsend street* 
Valencia street Station, ana No. 6x3 Market street — 
Grand Hotel. A. C KASSKTT, Super'ntendcnt. 
H. K. JUDAH, At Pawcngcr and Ticket Agt. 



until further notice. Boats and Trains will leave from and 
arrive at San Krancisco Passenger Depot, Market Street 
Wh rf, as follows : 

San Francisco. 


Arrive in 
San Francisco. 










Santa Rosa, 

7,45 a. nr. 


8.50 a. ni. 

8. or a. in. 

I lealdsburg, 

6.10 p. m. 

3.30D. m 

& Wav Stations. 

6,05 p. m. 

;i. "•. 

8 00 a. in. 


6. 10 p. m. 

6.05 p.m. 

Stages connect at Santa Rosa for Sevastopol and Mark 
We t Spri ; at Clairville for Sknggs Springs, and at 
Cloverdale for Highland Springs, K« Iseyviile, Soda Hay, 
Lakeport, Saratoga Springs, Blue Lakes Ukiah, Eureka, 
Navarro Ridge, Mendocino ■ ity. and the Geyser . 

EXCURSION TICKETS- from Saturdays to Mon- 
days—To Petal uma, $t 75 ", to Santa Rosa, $3 ; to Healds- 
burg, $4; »o ( lover-dale, $5. 

EXCURSION TICKETS- good for Sundays only— 
To Pctaluma, $1 50; to Santa Rosa, $2; to Hcaldsburg, 
$3; to Cloverdale, $4 50; to Guerneville, $3. 

From San Francisco for Point Tiburon and San Ra- 
fael—Week days : 7.45 a. m., 9.15 a. m,, 12.00 m., 3.30 p. 
m., 5 p. m., 6.10 p. in. Sundays: 8 a. m., 9.30 a. nr., 
11.00 a. m., t.30 p. m., 5 p. m. 

To San Francisco from San Rafael— Week days : 6.30 
a. D.j 8 a. m.. 10.30 a m., 1.30 p ni., 3.40 p. m., 5 05 p. 
m. Sundays: 8.10 a. m.. 9.40 a> m., 12.15 P- m -» 3>3° P* 
m., 5.00 p. in. 

To San Francisco from Point Tiburon — Week days: 
7.00 a. m.j 8.20 a. m., to. 55 a. m., 1.55 p. m., 4.05 p. m., 
5.30 p. m. Sundays : 6.35 a. m., 10.05 a * In *» 1 -'■ 4° P> m -i 
3-55 P- "»-. 5-3" P- ™. 

ARTHUR HUGHES, General Manager. 

PETER J. McGLYNN, Gen. Pass, and Tkt. Agt. 


Steamer James M. Donahue leaves San Francisco and 
connects with trains at Son ma Landing as follows: 
^ M-, daily (Sunday excepted), from Wash- 

• *J V-^ ington Street Wharf, for the town of Soijo- 
ma. Glen Ellen, and way points. 


8 0/"^^. M. (Sundays 0 ly), from Washington 
• « ' ^— ' Street Wharf, for the town of Sonoma, Glen 
Ellen, and way points. Round trip tickets to Sonoma, 
$1 ; Glen Ellen $1 50. 

ARTHUR HUGHES, General Manager. 
PETER J. McGLYNN, Gen. Pa«s. and 1 kt. Agt. 


Passenger Trains leave station, foot of Market street 

(south side), at 
Q QH A. M., daily, Alvarado, Newark, Center- 
<-> .K>\J ville, Alviso, Santa Clara, SAN JOSE, Los 
Gatos, Wrights, (ilenwood, Felton, Big Trees, SANTA 
CRUZ and all Way Stations. 

viso, Agncws, Santa Clara, SAN JOSE, Los Gatos, and 
all Stations to SANTA CRUZ. 

O r\ P. M., daily, for SAN JOSE, Los Gatos, 
• <_> an( j intermediate points. 
«fl>«-> DER CREEK, and $z 50 to SAN JOSK, on 
Saturdays and Sundays, to return on Monday, inclusive. 

8(^\f~\ A. M., every Sunday, Excursion to SAN 

DER CREEK, and return 

$1 75 to SANTA CLARA and SAN JOSE, and re- 

All through trains connect at Felton for Boulder Creek 
and points on Ectton and Pescadero Railroad. 


36.00, 36. 30, 37.00, 7.30, 8.00, 8.30,0.00, 9.30, 10.00, 
10.30, 11.00, 11.30 A. M. 5ji3.oo, 12.30,^1.00, 1.30,^12.00, 
2.30, 3.00, 3.30, 4.00, 4.30, 5.00, 5.30, 6.00, 6.30,7.00,7.30, 
8.30, 9.30, 10.45, II -45 P. M. 

OAKLAND — 85.30, 36.00, 36.30, 7.00, 7.30, 8.00, 8.30, 
9.00,9.30,10.00, 10.30,1111.00, 11.30 A.M.; 1)12.00,12.30, 
lli.oo, 1.30, 2.00, 2. jo, 3.00, 3.30, 4.00, 4.30, 5.00, 5.30, 
6.00, 6.30,7.00, 7.30, 8.30, 9.30, 10.45, ,I *45 P* M. 

From HIGH STREET, ALAMEDA— 35.16, 35.46, 
36.16, 6.46, 7.16, 7.46, 8.16, 8.46, 9.16, 9.46, 10.16, IT 10.46, 
11.16, H11.46 A. M. 12.16, 1)12.46, 1.16, 1.46, 2.16, 2.46, 
3.16, 3.46, 4.16, 4.46, 5.16, 5.46, 6.16, 6.46,7.16,9,16, 10.31 
11.31 P. M. 

{(Sundays excepted. DSundays only. 

TICKET, Telegraph and Tiansfer Offices 222 Mont- 
gomery street, San Francisco. 


Superintendent. G. F. &. P. Agent. 

O 0(~") P. M. (except Sunday), Express; 
^ • Eden, Alvarado, Newark, Cenlerville, 

Price, with exlr.i .(llality Blade, $1 50. PACIFIC SAW 
MANUFACTURING COM PAN V, No*. 17 and 19 Fre- 
mont street, San Francisco. Agents C. B. Paul's Files. 

mi 1:1 xi 


Endorsed by the Medical Profession. 
For sale eve ty where. 

Depot, 518 Sacramento Street. 

Originators of the Parlor and Receiving Vault System. 
Closets to conceal goods. Telephone No. 5137* 


1 1 m mi. DIRECTORS, 

118 Geary St., San Francisco, opp. Starr King's Church. 
Finest Funeral Furniture on the coast. 


Drhnvun ft Arnmting, I'hilndelphia. 



Common - Sense « oraeta. 

These celebrated corsets have double whale- 
bones, and are warranted unbreakable. They 
are woven of tine material, richly embroidered. 
A full assortment of these French model corsets, 
in all sizes and colors, from $1 to $3, to be had 
only at Freud's Corset House, Nos. 742 and 744 
Market street and 10 and 12 Dujiont street; sole 
agency for the Pacific Coast. Make no mistake 
in the place, and remember that Freud's Corset 
House closes daily at 6 p. m., and Saturdays at 
10 p. m. 

Mott, the Kansas City medium who was ex- 
posed by means of aniline dye, and who was 
tried for obtaining money under false pretenses, 
has been discharged by the court, on the ground 
that the complainants were not deceived by 
Mott's claims; that they paid their money, not 
to see spirits, but to expose humbug. At the 
same time the judge says that the complainants 
"demonstrated beyond the- possibility of a 
doubt, that the defendant was a fraud. This 
decision is based upon a quotation from a case 
in the first volume of American criminal reports 
that "the false pretense must be relied on by 
the partv claiming to have been defrauded, as 
trje." If it is good law it practically protects 
all fraudulent mediums from punishment, as 
persons who go to seances honestly, for the pur- 
pose of seeing spirits of the dead, are hardly in 
a frame of mind to detect jugglery, and even if 
they suspected trickery they have not the means 
at hand for a thorough and convincing exposure. 
Springfiehi Republican. 

1 in TiiomaN Festival Concerts. 

Since our last issue the seven splendid pro- 
grammes prepared by Theodore Thomas for the 
San F'rancisco Festival have been made public, 
and have invited our people to a renewed study 
of Wagner, Beethoven, Weber, Berlioz, Liszt, 
Massenet, Schumann, Saint-S;ens, Gounod, 
Moszkowski, and the other distinguished com- 
posers whose works are to lie given at the 
Pavilion. To this study, so far as Wagner is 
concerned, the " Wagner Handbook," issued in 
connection with the programme, will be a great 
help, giving, as it does, sketches, analyses, and 
illustrations of the Wagner operas, and much 
other valuable matter; there is but a limited 
number of these handsome books available, how- 
ever, being the few that were left from the Wag- 
ner festivals of last year in eastern states, for 
which they were prepared. The Thomas orches- 
tra and the accompanying singers — Mme. 
Fursch-Madi, Misses Juch and Clapper, and 
Messrs. Winch and Heinrich — give the thiity- 
second concert of their present tour to-day, at 
Kansas City, and, with Frau Materna (who 
joins them there), will arrive in San Francisco 
next Wednesday. The first concert will take 
place on Thursday evening, with a miscellane- 
ous programme, including a Beethoven sym- 
phony (No. 2), a suite by Moszkowski, a 
rhapsodie Hongroise (No. 12) by Liszt, and the 
Flying Dutchman overture by Wagner, for 
orchestra, while Miss Juch and Mr. Heinrich 
will appear in a duet from the last named opera, 
and the great Materna will make her San F'ran- 
cisco debut in the well-known aria, " Ocean, 
Thou Mighty Monster," from Weber's Oleum. 











Particular attention called to my new 


For Young Chickens, Turkeys, etc. 


Poultry Brooder* and lm-ubators 
on exhibition 

At Stalls 12 and 38 Center Market, corner Dupont and 
Sutter streets, San Francisco, Cal. 

Maltese tats, Svotrli Terrier*. Pnga, ami 
Oilier Varieties of Hon*. 

f-^Send for Circulars. 


ESTABLISHED - A.. D. 1822. 

Capital 5,000,000 Dollars. 




Alta California 







Sole Agent Pacific Coast WM. J. LEMP'S WESTERN 
11REWERY, St. Louis, Mo. 

411 Itiisli Street, San FranrlMoo. 

Large stock of Heer in hulk and bottles always on hand. 
Orders from dealers promptly attended to. 



For sale Every where. Take n<> other, 






r.rsi l.< 11 s always on ilnt lit. 

Lunches a specialty. 




u. .1. STAPLES, PreaMent. 
AE.PHEUS 10 1.1 Vice- President. 

$1,520,894 77 

WILLIAM J. m TTOW, Secretary. 
E. W. CARPENTER, Assist. Secretary 







118 Sutter St., 

San Francisco, Cal. 


The undersigned having purchased the eutlre Interest in the Storage 
Business of the late 

J. H. MOTT & CO., 

will continue same as before. Furniture, Pianos, Paintings, ami 

other goons stored al reasonable rates, Advances made. 
Omee ami Storerooms no. 78S MARKET STREET, opposite DUPONT. 


PI *\NOS! I nqualihedly and Emphatically, 


in tin' World I 


COAL AND PIG IRON. 41 Market Street, Cor. Spear, San F'rseo. 



Office 309 Sansome Street, 

San Francisco. 

Mrs. W. F. De FORREST, 


No. 24 Kearny Street, San Francisco. 

^^^■^ SUPERIOR TO ALL I r t.imily u^e. 

^H^A Lights quicker, burns longer, makes less 
^^^^^k smoke Bad SOOt than any other. If 
r your dealer don't happen to hav« it, 


1011 to 112 Mission street. 


Bis flay Street, 
(Between Montgomery and Sansome streets) 



310 Sauaome street, 

San Francisco. 




W. W. MOM V(.l I! A (O., 

i3<i 3'3i 3*5 an d 3'7 Market street, San Fr..ncisco. 


sun ; 


', TEA 






k e a. r> 


G CentH per Copy. 


At 1G Cents per Week. 


A First-class Restaurant for Ladies and Gentlemen. 114 
Sutter street, between Kearny and Montgomery, San 
Francisco. E. R. PERRIN, Proprietor. 



One of the most accessible and convenient houses in the 
city. Newly furnished and carpeted throughout. 
Contains 195 rooms, single and en suite. Located at 
at Not. 709 and 711 Jones street, close to the Sutter 
Street Car line, and within a block of the Geary Street 
Cable Road. House is supplied with Elevator, Tele- 
phone, and two American District Telegraphs. 

Special attention has been given to ensuie complete 
ventilation, while the sanitary provisions are unexcelled. 
Prices according to location of room. 



Kvery Altemoon. 


DO Cts. per Month. 



1. You get the maximum of News for the minimum of 


B. Your wife and daughters like it better than those 
other stupid paper*." 

3. If you go home ill nalured, reading the REPORT 
at dinner will make you good-natured. 

4. It talks common sense, and only expresses an opin- 
ion when it has something interesting to say. 

5. Its editorials are not a mile long. 

6. It is clean. 

7. It doesn't take all day to read it. 

8. It gives more items of news than any other paper. 

9. Every line sparkles. 

10. It is the best paper for the 'east money. 
It. If you don't take th* DAILY REPORT you 
don't get the news. 

5 & COir^ 


MAY 30, 1885. 

VOL. III.— NO. i y . 



Postscripts Derrick Dodd 

The Man Who Was Guiltv— Chapter VII 

Flora Haines Apponyi 

From the Diarv of a Vagabond 

Obstacles to Aerial Navigation 

Cemetery Rambles— Lone Mountain Marion Hill 

Woman's Realm F. E. W. 

The Rambler .' J. D. S. 

Whither Do We Go Adley H. Cummins 

Rambles Among Books Ferret 

Current Fun 

Editorial: The Graduates of '85; The Chinese Mission; Victor 

Hugo; Archbishop Alemany ; Public Trusts 

Short Bits Francesca 

Murphy's Remarkable Cure 

Bill Nye on Architecture 

The Russian People and Power 

Peg Woffington Lavioa S Goodwin 

Art Notes Fingal Buchanan 

Amusements Dorothy 

Making Treasury Notes 

Sameness John McGovern 

Poetry: A Grateful Heart; In the Dark; Beside the Sea; Verses 

Written in an Album; Almond Blossom 

" Come in and join us." 

" Certainly," was the cheerful response, and the crowd 
followed the good man up to the door of the lecture hall. 

"Why, 1 don't see any bar," said one of the gang, 
much surprised. 

" Bar!" replied the exhorter. " Young man, this is the 
bar of hea% r en." 

"Great Scott!" chorused the reprobates, greatly dis- 
gusted; " we thought you meant to set up the beer." 

And the wicked youths filed out, and kept on down to 
the scrapping match at Maynard's. 



Passed Out. — A married woman over in Oakland 
worried a long time to hit upon some suitable gift for her 
husband's birthday. He was a great card-player, so on 
the anniversary in question she presented him with three 
of a kind — triplets. She imagined that would about fill 
the bill, but the next day her astonished partner lit out 
for Alaska, in disguise. He left a note to the effect that 
he preferred a climate that didn't prevent a poor man 
from laying up a cent. 

He Was All Right.— The other morning while the 
Diffenderfer family were at breakfast, a letter was handed 
to old D., from his son Napoleon Pioneer Diffenderfer, 
who was at Harvard. 

"Ah!" cried the old gentleman, with great emotion, 
" this will tell us how our dear boy passed the examina- 
tions. 1 hope my fears are not realized." 

"Oh, I guess our Nappie is all right," said Mrs. Dif- 
fenderfer, proudly. 

"Yes, indeed," said the old gentleman, delightedly. 
" It is all right, thank Heaven ! Nap has failed com- 
pletely in all branches. He is at the foot of every class. 
How fortunate ! " 

" Fortunate, Mr. Diffenderfer ! " 

" Exactly, my dear. I have been tormented with the 
misgiving that possibly our darling boy possessed brains, 
and was therefore doomed to suffer from envy, detraction 
and poverty. But there is no danger of that now, I can 
plainly see. Our beloved son is exactly adapted for suc- 
cess and prosperity in San Francisco. He has turned out 
to be a blanked fool ! " 

And the good old couple mingled their happy tears over 
the welcome fact. 

Mrs. Burdett-Coutts has just presented the poor of 
Birmingham with forty thousand pairs of socks. Charity 
covereth a multitude of shins. 

And now the Czar of Russia is said to be infatuated 
with an American actress, and the taxpayers in that 
country are gloomily expecting a rise along the whole 
line. Meanwhile the Nihilists have temporarily sus- 
pended operations. " One thing at a time," they say. 

The Wrong Bar.— The other evening, as a promi- 
nent eastern revivalist was about entering the Y. M. C. 
A. building on Sutter street, he observed a delegation of 
giddy youths coming down the street. Pausing until 
they had approached, the evangelist said, with an en- 
couraging smile : 

A citizen of Marysville invented a new corset which 
was thought to be a very clumsy affair until last week, 
when the sample one (worn by -his wife) broke, the steel 
rib piercing her side and causing instant death. The in- 
ventor wants fifty thousand dollars for a half interest. 

A large shark was washed ashore at North Beach 
yesterday. In its stomach was found the skeleton of a 
man's hand, upon which was a brass ring, the corrosion 
of which had inflamed the shark's stomach, causing its 
death. The President of the P. C. A. Society has gotten 
out a warrant for the arrest of the man. It's high time 
this habit of wearing bogus jewelry was stopped. 

California is said to be the only state in the Union 
whose inhabitants never use an almanac. The square 
fact is that a good reliable almanac would be (Tom, open 
that window!) just thrown away on this region of (Jane, 
shut the window and build a fire!) summer and sealskin 
sacks. (Whew! Get your overcoat, and let's go for some 

Last week three Buddhist missionaries arrived in New 
York, and at once tackled the hard cases in that city. 
Somebody has given us away to the Hindoos, even. 

During a baseball game at Little Rock, Arkansas, the 
other day, hailstones as large as eggs fell, seriously in- 
juring two of the players. It will give the adherents of 
Bob Ingersoll a terrible set-back if it becomes apparent 
that, after all, there is an overruling Providence experi- 
menting as to the best method of exterminating profes- 
sional ball-players. 

He Groaned. — The other morning a couple of eastern 
tourists walked into the bar-room at the Occidental, and 
ordered a couple of Napa soda lemonades. 

" All right," said the barkeeper, preparing to push the 
wires off the corks; "just keep quiet a moment, while I 
groan, please," and he exploded both corks in rapid suc- 
cession, followed the reports with the most blood-curdling 
moans possible. 

" No, I guess there ain't any around this morning," he 
said, as he proceeded to compound the beverages. 

" Ain't any what? What the deuce docs all this mean ? " 
said the mystified strangers. 

" Why, you see there's generally a lot of English 
globe-trotters in the house — those fellows who think that 
the shoot-on-sight, man-for-breakfast times are still all the 
go here. So whenever I open soda I just groan a couple 
of times, and the way the Johnnie Freshes rush in from the 
reading and billiard rooms to look at the corpse is just 
too high for anything. Come in after dinner to-night, 
and I'll show you some fun." 

Professor Huxley calls a primrose "a corollifloral di- 
cotyledonous exogen." As usual, there were no police 
around to interfere. 

The Peruvians don't take much begum nonsense in 
theirs. When a girl's "steady company" fails to drop 
in by 8 : 30 Sunday evenings, her big brother is sent 
round with a shotgun mandamus to bring the lover's 
cadaver into court, or a written excuse. The best busi- 
ness in that country is the manufacture of baby carriages. 

" There is no use talking," said a City Hall official the 
other day; " a man can't make an honest living nowadays 
unless he steals." 

Mitchell the pugilist has announced his intention of 
giving up fighting and going into the minstrel business. 
Thus we see to what utter degradation bad company may 
bring a man. 

Under a law recently passed in Wisconsin, a hotel in 
that state, if unprovided with a fire-escape, cannot col- 
lect a bill. Going by this rule, most of our Frisco hotels 
must possess six or eight escapes apiece. 

One particular exhibit in the Spring Exhibition of the 
Art Association is simply villainous in its want of merit, 
and should be removed at once. 

[Note. The above general little criticism appeared in 
our issue of last week. Since then every local artist ex- 
hibiting in said collection has been up to interwiew us 
with a club, with one exception. The one is bed-ridden 
at present, but has begun a suit for slander — D. D.] 

In Hock, etc. — The best paying bar-room in Oak- 
land is a place on Broadway, formerly occupied by an 
insurance company. The company moved away, leav- 
ing its old sign over the door. The very first day the 
next tenant, who had failed to remove the sign, opened 
his bar he was surprised at the splendid business he did. 
He says now that no end of leading business men and 
church members drop in every day and remark, with a 
cheerful wink — 

"Grand idea, that sign of yours. I'll take a policy 
with a little lemon and sugar in it, please." 

The flag is still there. 

Porter Ashe means to call his new colt " Slander." It 
goes so fast when it gets started, you know. 

A Protector.— When the overland train had wheezed 
into the depot last Thursday, the passengers, as usual, 
gathered around the baggage car to receive the remains 
of their luggage. 

The baggage-smashers had slammed out about two- 
thirds of the passengers' debris when they came to a 
wooden chest belonging to some honest emigrant, who, 
with a touching faith in American improvements, had 
carefully tied round his box a red flannel chest-protector. 

Even the burliest ruffian in the trunk-banging gang felt 
a twinge of shame at this unsophisticated appeal to his 
better nature, and as the humble chest was gently lifted 
out and placed on a truck, there was not a dry eye on the 

Proper Respect. — The other day, during breakfast at 
the Hardchewing House, Skaggers, the star boarder, 
jumped up and, with a profound bow, opened the door 
for the waiter. 1 

" Denied polite," growled old Major Boggs. 

" It isn't politeness, it's respect for age," said Skaggers, 
gloomily. " Didn't you see he carried the butter in one 
hand, and the spring chicken in the other?" 

And the landlady hustled out to make out his bill. 

Another banjo club has been formed on Van Ness 
avenue. Real estate investors should avail themselves 
of the opportunity. 

The only barber at Spokane Falls was elected Coroner 
last week. The miners do their own shaving now. 

" Hadn't an enemy in the world" is the fool's epitaph 
somebody wants to place on the proposed monument to 
Professor Howard. It's a mighty thick-headed numbskull 
who hasn't brains enough to get himself hated by some 
one-horse, pock-marked, round-shouldered, cigarette- 
smoking nobody. 

A London dispatch says that " Lord Garmoyle (Gum- 
boil) had a fit in Poole's tailor establishment, and was 
sent home in a critical state." If the English tourists we 
see standing around at the Palace are any criterion, this 
must have been the only fit ever issued from that shop. 







'Phe first place he visited was a large factory on the 
south side of Market street, a house which had taken 
several important state contracts, and maintained a small 
army of workmen. The business was conducted by a 
stock company which had its regularly chosen officers 
and directors, including some of the wealthiest and most 
prominent men in the city. 

Unused to the formalities of such establishments, Hale 
asked to see the head of the house, and a courteous 
salesman directed him to a row of neatly fitted offices 
partitioned off from the main exhibition-room. 

He found the President of the company busily writing 
at a desk. The accumulation of a large and handsome 
property had not served to disturb the systematic busi- 
ness methods of James Blakeman. Holding himself a 
little aloof in social intercourse, in his commercial re- 
lations he prided himself upon being a man of working 
habits— a man of the people. At this particular epoch 
his auivity had received fresh stimulus from the circum- 
stance that a United States senatorship would soon be 
vacated, and his friends were advocating his nomination, 
on the score of these very praiseworthy and popular at- 

He did not do the new-comer the grace of lifting his 
pen from the paper, but, after one careless glance, 
saluted him with an indifferent greeting. 

" Well, what's wanted?" 

" Work." 

"What trade?" 

"Carpenter — cabinet-maker." 

" Ed, call Jobson." 

The general superintendent made his appearance — a 
short, compactly built man, whose brisk air proclaimed 
him to be an exponent of his employer's principles. 

" Any men needed on wood-work, Jobson?" 

" We could make use of half a dozen more hands, Mr. 
Blakeman. That lot ot chairs for the Sacramento 
theater is promised the first of the month, and we are 
pretty close run." 

" Where have you been working?" 

This query was addressed to Hale, who met it without 
hesitation or surprise. It was what he had expected. 

" At San Quentin." 

" Penitentiary? " 

" Yes." 

Humiliating as it was to make this public confession, 
the applicant was not blind to the fact that his an- 
nouncement had produced a singular and unaccountable 
effect upon the head of the establishment. James Blake- 
man was a tall man, broad and portly of figure, and car- 
ried himself with th^ dignity and pomposity befitting a 
man of his importance; but as he shifted his attitude 
with a nervous movement, he seemed to shrink and col- 
lapse, as if some inner spring of pride or self-respect had 
been roughly jarred, and his eyes dilated with a hunted 

Was it mere physical fear, the insensate horror and re- 
pulsion that sometimes seizes men on contact with an 
avowed criminal? Hale asked himself the question in 
wondering speculation. 

The President's next act was in distinct rebuttal of this 
theory. He spoke to the two other men. 

"That'll do, Jobson. Ed, take this bill around to 
Failing & Winchester's." 

Left alone with his visitor, he addressed him with an 
anxious and deprecating air that presented a curious con- 
trast to his usual self-sufficient bearing. 

"Mr. Hale, why did you come to me?" He dwelt 
upon the last word in such a way as to impart a peculiar 
•personal significance to the question. Hale received it 
with unfeigned surprise. 

" Because 1 wanted employment ; because I knew you 
had the largest furniture establishment on the coast; 
because I knew you had three hundred men in your 
employ; because " 

" That is enough." The equanimity of the questioner 
was restored by this candid statement of fact, and a flavor 
of his customary arrogance returned. "Nevertheless," 
he added, " I can't employ you. It would be entirely 
opposed to our policy, sir; entirely opposed to our 
policy. However, I appreciate the hardship of your 
position, and I don't mind doing so much." 

He pulled open a drawer as he spoke, and taking out a 
twenty-dullar gold piece, placed it deliberately on the 
end of the desk nearest to where his visitor stood. Hale 
contemplated the money for a moment as if he were 
unable to grasp the meaning of the act, and was trying 
to decipher it on the lace of the coin; then his eye 
traveled wiih keen curiosity to the face of the donor. 

" If you can't give me work," he said, bluntly, " I don't 
see why you should expect me to take your money." 

He suddenly ceased speaking, for beneath the gladness 
of worldly prospeiity, the complacency of unsullied 
position, and the consciousness of popular esteem that 

rejoiced in every line of the manufacturer's fleshy counte- 
nance, Hale detected a mystic and indelible imprint. In 
the anxious face, the averted eye, the uncertain gesture, 
he read the acknowledgement of a hidden bond of affin- 
ity; the comfortless, the shameful, the tragical, fellow- 
ship of crime. 

Hale went the rounds of the other factories in a method- 
ical and mechanical fashion. Easy as the undertaking 
seemed, it was not a task that could be accomplished in a 
day, nor yet in a week, for there were tiresome spells of 
waiting before his application could be heard, and in 
many cases he called again and again, only to find the 
employer absent or engaged. By many he was met with 
courtesy, and he received sympathy from a few, but as a 
rule he found every place already filled, and in the few 
instances where a vacancy afforded room for a faithful 
and capable man, his questionable credentials lost him 
the day. He finally took his way to a cabinet-maker on 
Fourth street, an old friend of his father's, with whom 
they had dealt in the time of their prosperity. The con- 
vict shrank from recalling himself to this man, but some 
remembrance of his kindly face caused him to think that 
his application would not be in vain. He found that the 
small establishment had given way to a mammoth build- 
ing with large show-rooms, presenting a glass front to the 
street, and the blockade of teams outside, the hurried 
movements of men within, gave evidence of sound finan- 
cial prosperity. 

" Good day, sir." 

The owner turned and greeted him with a brisk business 

" Don't you remember me, Mr. McAllister? My name 
is Hale, Laurence Hale." 

"Bless my soul!" The manufacturer shook hands 
with him in an awkward way, without enthusiasm or 

"I called," said the returned felon, "to ask for work; 
joiner, turner, finisher — anything in the line of ordinary 
cabinet work. I ought to understand my trade. I have 
served a long apprenticeship." And he gave a short, bit- 
ter laugh. 

McAllister listened with a troubled look. 

" Come with me, Mr. Hale," he said, as the young 
man concluded. He led the applicant through the ware- 
rooms and a large store-room in the rear, fragrant with 
the smell of spicy woods; then up a flight of stairs to 
where an open doorway commanded a view of a long 
apartment, in which stalwart workmen flitted back and 
forth, busy as bees in a hive. 

" Look there, Hale." 

The two men viewed in silence the scene of honest 
activity, noting the cheerful faces of the workers, their 
quick, firm tread, their strong, skillful hands; and a 
pleasurable sensation stirred in both their breasts. 

"I have over a hundred hands in there," said the head 
of the establishment, slowly, " and I believe every one of 
them is an honest man; they have all been tried and 
proved. Many of them have wives and children. They 
are a sober, hard-working, steady set, trained to the bench 
from their youth. If one of them drops out to-day there 
will be a score of his kind ready to take his place to- 
morrow. I put it to your sense of justice, Hale: do you 
think I would be justified in shipping one of them and 
taking — you — in his place?" 

Hale shook his head in silent negation. They de- 
scended the stairs and walked slowly toward the outer 
door. The puzzled expression worn by the manufacturer 
from the commencement of the interview deepened. At 
the door he turned to the younger man, with a depreca- 
tory shrug of his shoulders — 

" I can't say I exactly understand, Hale, how you 
should be in precisely this position. It was a pile of 
money to sink inside of six weeks." 

" You remember I accounted for every cent. It all 
went up in Bullion, one of the worst wildcat stocks ever 
floated on the market." 

" I know; I know. But there was fifteen thousand be- 
sides. There, there; don't get excited, man. If you 
don't choose to give a friend your confidence, nobody's 
going to force it." 

The subject of the missing money, which had wholly 
passed from Hale's mind, had been sprung upon him so 
unexpectedly that in his surprise and consternation he 
was only capable of a confused protest. He found him- 
self in the street before he could frame an intelligent de- 
nial, and then his mind was so occupied with the sub- 
stance of what he had heard that he did not trouble him- 
self with useless regrets over the omission. So the miss- 
ing funds had never been accounted for, and people still 
hugged the delusion that he had appropriated the greater 
as well as the lesser sum — he, who had not another re- 
source in the world aside from the little sum provided by 
his mother's tender forethought, and who already reck- 
oned forward by days to the time when that would be 
exhausted. The tragedy of the position impressed him 
far more than its absurdity. 

Abandoning all hope of procuring work at the large 
factories, he undertook a thorough canvass of the smaller 
establishments, beginning with the different planing mills 
where the manufacture of furniture was carried on in a 
small way, and ending with the small repairing shops 
scattered throughout the city. In the latter places he 

encountered an unforeseen difficulty. It frequently hap- 
pened, under an extra pressure of work, that a hand was 
needed, but each man was expected to provide his own 
kit of tools — a purchase involving the outlay of a consid- 
erable sum, and the applicant had neither money nor 
credit. After awhile he became accustomed to disap- 
pointment. He rose in the morning prepared for mis- 
fortune, and fought the day's losing fight with a serene 
and expectant face. Now and then he gave himself over 
to long fits of meditation, curiously speculating as to how 
it all would end. So long as his health and strength held 
out his duty was clear ; but there was a limit to all things, 
and time was swiftly advancing with its stern restrictions. 

He walked along Front street early one forenoon, his 
hand thrust into his pocket, with a tight grasp upon the 
single coin it held. This piece of silver was literally his 
last dollar, and he clung to it with a tenacity little short 
of superstition. He had gone without his breakfast that 
morning sooner than break the coin, and as he loitered in 
front of the great wholesale market he meditated the 
stories he had heard of men who made their fortunes 
through shrewd investments of trifling sums,, speculating 
upon hisown qualifications for an itinerant fruit vender or 
street merchant. Whimsically indulging his day dream, 
he plunged into a series of abstract computations, in which 
the silver dollar compounded daily at a fabulous interest, 
speedily attaining the proportions of a colossal sum. 

His arithmetical gyrations were interrupted by the* 
appearance of an old woman, who emerged from a dingy 
alley, walking feebly, and crossed the sidewalk before 
him. Her hands were swollen and distorted by the 
ravages of some painful disease, and her garb ot rusty 
black, hung in tatters about her. In her hand she 
carried a long stick, and as she reached the curbstone, 
first looking around as it to assure herself that her action 
was not observed, she extended the staff and eagerly 
poked over the mass of refuse dumped from the vegetable 
carts. Her object was revealed when her search was 
rewarded by a sound white turnip, accidentally dropped in 
the hasty transfer of the produce from carts to the market, 
(lathering up the skirt of her dress to form a receptacle 
for her gleanings, she hurriedly stooped and secured her 
prize. A small crimson beet, a couple of new potatoes, 
a fragment of cauliflower and some cabbage leaves, repaid 
her further search, and sighing heavily, she turned to go. 

Hale craved no further evidence of the old creature's 
want. Her bowed and decrepit form, her wrinkled face, 
her gray hairs, her shrinking ways, and the pathetic epi- 
sode of which he had been an unseen witness, were suffi- 
cient vouchers of her need. Stepping rapidly and with 
caution, he neared her side, and stealthily extending his 
hand, dropped the coin into her skirt and started to move 
on. A gruff voice arrested him. 

He turned and saw a policeman, who bore down upon 
him with an air of wrathful authority. The old woman 
halted, alarmed and trembling, looking from one man to 
the other, in fear and consternation. 

" Before the Lord," she asseverated, "I've done noth- 
ing out of the way." 

"No more do I believe you have, Susan," the officer 
assured her, in a friendly tone. " You've lived on Bren- 
ham place a matter of fifteen years or more, and there's 
not one can say you've ever laid hands on other people's 
property, or been anything but an unfortunate, harmless 
old soul. But this here man's a different case. He's a 
bad one. Six months out of prison, and nevf.r once turn- 
ing his hand to honest work. He's Under Suspicion, he 
is." And the blue-coat riveted upon Hale a lofty and 
dramatic glare, which the latter made no feint of resent- 

"The question is," continued the officer, slowly and 
impressively, " what was the fellow sneaking after you 
for, and catching hold of your dress? What have you 
got in your skirt, Susan? Don ? t be afraid to let me see," 
he said, kindly. 

Thus exhorted, the old woman dropped her skirt, and 
her motley collection tumbled pell-mell upon the side- 
walk, but a shining silver coin was swifter, and struck 
with a musical clink, curvetting around the inequalities 
of the pavement and finally coming to rest in a little hol- 

" Oh, I beg you'll believe me, sir, when I say I never 
saw it until this moment! I never knew it was there. It 
must have been caught in the cabbage leaves, as I 

scrambled them up, or else " She looked at Hale 

with a sudden light in her faded eyes. The policeman's 
gaze was also concentrated upon the young man's face, 
scanning it with a look ot sharp inquiry. The suspicion 
vanished from the officer's face. 

" Well, you are a soft one, and no mistake." He 
uttered the words slowly, and with an oracular air, re- 
garding Hale with the look of a man accustomed to rank 
all mankind according to their susceptibility. 

" Don't you know you're playing the fool, young man, 
encouraging street beggary and the like?" he demanded, 

" There was an old man died of starvation up on 
Bartlett place the other night. At the end of your beat, 
is it not? Suppose some one had happened along in time 
to play the fool with him?" 

" Go on with your blasted nonsense, then, if you have 
the tin to back it," returned the policeman, "only I 


warn you the whole force is on the look-out for that hid- 
den treasure of yours. We're sure to come across it some 
day, and then all your fine notions will be played out "; 
and he laughed, a hearty cachinnation which was a fine 
mixture of good nature and irony. 

The street was so quiet and deserted at that time of day 
that Hale fancied the little episode had escaped obser- 
vation, but a man who trod the pavement behind him 
had been a spectator of the curious by-play, and quick- 
ened his pace, to overtake the surreptitious alms-giver. 
A big hand fell on Hale's shoulder, as it had fallen 
on a memorable occasion more than ten years gone 
by, and he turned with a look almost as shamefaced as 
on that previous meeting, to encounter a pair of honest 
blue eyes beaming with friendly feeling. 

" Hale, how are you? " 

Voice and words and manner unchanged, John 
Banks's tone was as hearty, his greeting as cordial and 
unembarrassed, as if the man before him had just re- 
turned from a long and perilous journey. For the first 
time since his release, the freed convict met an honest 
man on the plane of an equal; for the first time he felt 
himself a recognized element of the worjd from which he 
had lived so long apart. 

" I see you have received a high honor since I saw you 
last. The office could not have fallen on more worthy 
shoulders," said Hale, recalling a legislative act which 
had created the office of State Mineralogist, and elevated 
John Banks to the place. 

" Thank you. It gives me a chance to ventilate some 
of my hobbies," and the man of science gave a genial 

" Hobbies ! Everybody knows what noble projects 
for the weal of the people you delight in masking under 
that title," and Hale's earnest eyes rounded the compli- 
ment his lips has essayed to utter. They progressed 
along the street, chatting on topics of mutual interest. 
So pleasantly did John Banks conduct the conversation, 
so delicately did he avoid all reference to the past, that 
Hale for once lost sight of the humiliations of his situ- 
ation, and it seemed the most natural thing in the world 
when the mineralogist followed a discussion of some of his 
own plans with a direct personal inquiry. 

" By the way, Hale, what are you doing now? " 

" Endeavoring to live on faith and my own wits; trying 
to determine what possibilities of distinction and profit 
are open to a man destitute of reputation, capital and 

" Have a care what you say. What was that last 
clause? " 

" Well, let me amend it, my dear fellow, and say one 
stanch friend who could not help me if he would, and 
ought not if he could." 

" Hale, why haven't you been around to see me? " 

" Because I liked you too well, Banks." 

" Drop nonsense, and talk plain English." 

" Because you are in a position where every act as an 
individual is open to public scrutiny. Because I did not 
wish to compromise you." 

" Compromise me ! " 

It was quite remarkable how a man like Banks, given 
to gentle speech and courteous phrase, could concentrate 
so much contempt and scorn into two words. 

" Yes, compromise you. Intercourse with a convicted 
felon would besmirch your own character, and compro- 
mise you in the eyes of your constituents." 

"Look here, Hale, you don't mean it; but you are 
making me dwindle in my own self-respect as the most 
caustic utterances of my enemies have never done. Com- 
promise me ! Good Heavens ! is my character then based 
upon so slight a fabric of public confidence that it could 
not endure a test like that ? I would throw up my position 
to-day if I believed it." 

His stormy outburst concluded with a hearty laugh. 

" I had a scheme in my mind when I watched that little 
performance of yours over by the market, Laurence," he 
proceeded, " but, by George, you make me almost afraid 
to suggest it. I need an assistant in my laboratory. Fif- 
teen years ago, when I gave lectures on chemistry at the 
University, I recollect you had quite a leaning that way 
yourself. Don't you think you could brush up your 
knowledge and take hold with me for a time?" 

" Banks; are you sure you're not making the place for 

" Morally certain," replied the mineralogist. I had a 
German chemist for awhile, but he left me a week ago for 
a place with a patent medicine company, who offered him a 
handsomer retainer than the state could afford. I wouldn't 
like to make any reflection on our California Legisla- 
ture, but it is an uncommonly curious arrangement that 
they should make one of their departments dependent on 
the very institution it is designed to destroy. The whole 
end and aim of my office is to suppress stock-gambling, 
and direct capital to the support of legitimate mining. 
Yet by a brilliant proviso of the bill creating it, our chief 
revenue is derived from a ten-cent tax on each transfer of 
mining stock made in the market. Every stroke of work 
we have done since we were established has been a direct 
blow at our own income. Starting out with a round sum, 
it has been steadily diminishing, until I have been obliged 
to become, my own clerk, secretary and janitor. So you 
see I have no very flattering prospect to offer you." 

Oppressed by many misgivings, Hale assumed the 
post so kindly tendered him, resolved to perform his 
duties with such diligence and fidelity that his friend 
would have no cause to regret the offer. His chief 
duties consisted in making examinations of specimens 
from mineral discoveries in different portions of 
the state, as the basis of official assays— a service freely 
tendered by the state to the humblest of her citizens. 
Laboring in careful compliance with Banks's directions, 
he executed his work with such accuracy and dispatch 
that correspondents were spared the vexatious delays 
which had hitherto ensued when they desired a prompt 
analysis of an unknown mineral, or speedy assay of a 
specimen of ore. Banks did not hesitate to express his 
satisfaction in unequivocal terms. 

" I don't see how I ever got along without you, Hale. 
You are simply invaluable to me. We shail soon be 
under fire." 

" You are reckoning only the material service. Wait 
until you hear from other quarters." 

Hale's predictions were soon verified, and the mineral- 
ogist was brought face to face with the problem whose 
very suggestion he had so indignantly repudiated on their 
first encounter. Upon the presentation of the vouchers 
for Hale's first quarter's salary, the horde of hungry of- 
fice-seekers who keep a zealous watch over all matters 
savoring of political patronage, promptly resurrected the 
history of his past career, and industriously circulated 
the tale that the mineralogist, ignoring the claims of 
honest men who were in need of work, had taken a dis- 
charged convict into the employ of the state. Men of 
influence and wealth took up the hue and cry. The 
newspapers re-echoed it, and demanded the discharge of 
the offensive assistant. Some even went so far as to in- 
sinuate that Hale had made his way into the office in 
pursuance of a preconcerted plan to rob the State 
Museum of valuable specimens of gold and silver ore 
which it contained. Banks's friends appealed to him to 
respect public sentiment and discharge the objectionable 
employe, but he stood firm and immovable. 

"Hale has erred, it is true," he argued; "but how 
many men in the community are exempt from blame? 
The man is making a gallant struggle, and I haven't one 
in my employ who is doing such good service to the 

At the first intimation Hale received of the opposition 
his appointment was arousing, he proposed to abdicate 
his place, but was reassured by Banks's careless re- 

" Pay no attention to the matter. It is the work of a 
few political shysters, and will soon blow over." 

Hale, leading a secluded life, seeing few people, and in 
the absorption of his professional duties rarely taking 
time to read a newspaper, was one of the last to learn 
the true extent of the commotion. Stepping into his 
chief 's room one day during the latter's absence, his eye 
fell upon a newspaper open at the editorial columns, and 
seeing Banks's name and his own in close proximity, he 
sat down and deliberately read the context. He was 
appalled at the substance of the article. Taking for its 
text the employment of a discharged convict in the State 
Mining Bureau, which was characterized as a rank act of 
injustice and a grievous insult to honest men, it pro- 
ceeded to a most malignant attack upon Banks's personal 
character, and a venomous denunciation of the conduct 
of the office. 

Hale sat down to his friend's desk and wrote rapidly 
and hurriedly, looking up at the outer door from time to 
time, as if in apprehension lest the occupant of the room 
should arrive before he had finished. 

When John Banks returned, a half-hour later, he 
found the street door locked, and searched in vain for 
his assistant. He seated himself at his desk, and the 
first thing he saw was a marked passage in a newspaper, 
and beside it a folded paper containing Hale's resig- 

( To be continued.) 


I plead guilty to the atrocious crime of being a vaga- 
bond, yet urge in extenuation of my offense, that my 
propensity for wandering has never been gratified at the 
entire sacrifice of my self-respect. Though I have visited 
nearly every civilized nation on the face of the globe, and 
mingled with all grades of society, I 'have never begged 
nor stolen from any person, though often sorely tempted 
to do so — a display of self-denial and moral rectitude of 
which I am justly proud. True, I have frequently ac- 
cepted the proffered hospitality of some generous individ- 
ual, but have always endeavored to compensate for my 
entertainment with descriptions of foreign lands not to be 
found in any book of travels, and tales of marvels and 
thrilling adventure that would have caused the renowned 
Munchausen to blush ; and thus the benefits have been 
mutual. But, alas! in an unpropitious hour, when 
allured by the glittering title, my evil genius tempted me 
to visit the Golden State, where my experiences have 
been of so painful a nature that I am induced to publish 
a few extracts from my diary, as a warning to my fellow- 
tramps to shun the trap into which I have fallen : 

May I ith. — At five p, m. arrived in Oroville alter a thirty-mile 

walk, hungry and weary; no luck; left town at nine 
hungrier. Walked one mile from town, and slept beneai 
shade of a hospitable tree, where I dreamt happy drean, 
bologna sausages, etc., the only refreshment I had taken loi 
twenty-four hours. 

May 12th.— Rose early and proceeded on my journeyj applied 
unsuccessfully at various farm houses for work. At six p. m., 
fortune kind. Struck the tail end of a picnic party, and found 
the ground profusely strewn with dilapidated sandw iches, half- 
sucked oranges, etc. Dined sumptuously, and retired beneath a 
roughly constructed table, where again my couch was haunted 
by blissful visions of an earthly paradise, in which picnic parties 
and stale pastry shone conspicuously. 

May 13th.— Rose early, and after breakfast filled all available 
space about my person with fragments of provisions, and, sigh- 
ing sadly over my inability to carry more, resumed my journey, 
cogitating over the unreasonableness of man. And thus, I 
thought, it ever is when the demon of avarice enters a man's 
soul. The more he possesses the more he covets, and were the 
whole world his own he would crave the heavens. But yester- 
day, when faint with hunger, one-fourth of what I now possess 
would have rendered me supremely happy; to day, with a well 
filled stomach and a liberal supply for the next forty-eight hours, 
I am repining because my hoard is not greater. Foi shame! 
banish such unworthy thoughts. Take " the goods the gods 
bestow," and be thankful. 

May 14th.— Reached Marysville and got permission to work my 
passage on a steamer to the metropolis, which I reached on the 

But here let me close my diary, for since my arrival in this 
city of opulence and poverty, virtue and depravity, like the 
wild asses described in holy writ, I have snuffed the w ind, and 
find the diet, though plentiful, far from substantial. What 
fortune has in store Tor me the future alone can reveal, but if ever 
I get safely out of California, it will require more than a glitter- 
ing name to lure me back. A Virtuous Vagaiionij. 


A gentleman who has studied aerostation for forty 
years, gives his views upon the subject in the New York 


"Gas balloons are an improvement upon fire balloons, 
but are far from what is needed. They are very expen- 
sive, liable to leakage, fire, bursting, and explosion, and, 
once up in the air, almost impossible to steer. I wasted 
ten years on them, and found out only that they were 
practically no good. The expense has been greatly re- 
duced, especially since the introduction of water gas, but 
the leakage and the liability to take fire is about as bad 
as ever. The steering has been improved of late years, 
but is still untrustworthy. As for the steering planes, 
about which the French aeronauts talk so much, they are 
simply worthless. They are based on the same principles 
as a bird with outstretched wings. They are attached 
either to the balloon or the car, and slightly inclined. 
Ballast is then thrown out or gas let off, and the balloon 
moves up or down. The steering plane changes this ver- 
tical into oblique motion, and so sends the balloon a half 
mile or mile in any direction desired. But these planes 
are heavy, cumbrous, and expensive. This model here 
represents the best type. Its skeleton is fine aluminum, 
and the filling varnished silk. To apply it with any de- 
gree of success to a balloon large enough to carry five 
persons would cost $4,000. Even then it would be of 
little use in a swift air current. The rise or fall of a bal- 
loon en voyage is comparatively slow, seldom exceeding 
on an average two hundred feet a minute, or two miles 
an hour. This ascent or descent in a twenty-mile current 
would be one in ten, and would give an aeronaut more 
trouble than the whole thing was worth. If he came 
down too rapidly, or if he was caught by trees, his planes 
would be ruined beyond all possibility of repair. Of the 
three hundred odd experiments thus far tried with steer- 
ing planes, every one has been a pronounced failure. 

" When I'd worked my way through all of these, I 
came to the conclusion that the only way to travel through 
the air was by a flying machine. And that's where I am 
now. I haven't quite succeeded as yet, but I have almost, 
and I think before five years have gone by I'll have it 
going. To make a successful flying machine, there are 
two obstacles in your way. One is the weight and the other 
is the power to overcome the weight. The former I think 
I have mastered. It's a bat's wing on a large scale. The 
bones are metal, and the skin is fine silk. For the bones 
I tried brass, bronze, and steel, but they were all heavy 
and clumsy. When aluminum came out, and I found it 
was about as strong as steel, and only a quarter as heavy, 
I saw I had just what I wanted. I have it cast into ribs 
of about the shape of a T rail. It is, I believe, the 
strongest that can be used for vertical motion. Hollow 
rods are not so rigid, and T-shape is easily deflected side- 

" But now comes the only trouble I have, and that's 
the power. No man has enough strength to fly my 
machine or any machine. If he were as strong as a bird 
in proportion to his weight, he would have arms thirty 
inches round, and breast muscles a foot thick. If you 
use a steam or gas engine, or even that odd German 
invention, a powder engine, the weight of the metal over- 
balances the power gained. When the electric storage 
batteries came out I tried them, but they were no good. 
They supply a limited amount of power, and their weight 
is almost as much as that of an engine. I then tried a 
small electric motor connected with my machine by 
wires. It was a success, but it was a toy, and when the 
wires were more than a hundred feet long I could not 
control the machine. All that I want now is a light and 
powerful motor, or rather, substance. I have an engine 
which weighs only seventy pounds, and which works the 
wings directly. All ordinary fuels are of no use. A solid 
or a liquid which can be easily converted into an im- 
mense volume of vapor would supply my need. Gun- 
powder and gun cotton will not answer, though I think 
the latter may be eventually utilized and controled. If 
there is anything in the Keeley motor such as the inven- 
tor claims, it will fill the bill exactly. With it I'll revolu- 
tionize travel and all warfare. I haven't applied for any 
patents, as I'd sooner spend the money it costs on my 

1 experiments. Are there many working in the same field? 

1 Quite a number. I know of more than fifty experi- 
menters here and in Europe. Most of them are Ameri- 
cans or Frenchmen." 





She was making a cautious but not beautiful descent 
of the steep and broken path leading from the cemetery 
gate, by prodding each heel viciously into the sand and 
inclining her body backward so as to make an angle of 
at least forty-five degrees with the perpendicular; and as 
we toiled past, wrapped in our own particular cloud of 
dust, she cast an indignant eye upon us, and said she 
thought it a sheem for ladies to have to dhrag thimsilves 
up the loikes av such a road. But we couldn't help it; it 
isn't our fault that there is no lower entrance on Geary 
street, and the descending Amazon might have known it. 

In spite of its lugubrious name, this Catholic sleeping 
place is pleasant to stroll through, and one stumbles con- 
tinually across the quaintest epitaphs. (Curious how this 
last word, once applied exclusvely to the stone itself, has 
come to mean the inscription on it). 

One would think that epitaphs would have to be 
generally the same all the world over ; but it has been 
shown by some learned churchyard scavengers (if the 
term be allowable), that the epitaphs of two nations will 
differ as widely as those nations' people. Taking them 
as a class, English epitaphs are not long nor flowery, but 
clear, straightforward, and sometimes oddly blunt; for 
not infrequently are seen lines perhaps like this: " She 
had a kind heart, but was very bad-tempered. May her 
soul rest in peace. Amen ! " Perhaps the Bard had this 
outspokenness in mind when he made Prince Henry ex- 
claim over Percy's body, " Thy ignominy sleep with thee 
in the grave, but not remembered in thy epitaph." The 
French deli = ht in short, clever inscriptions that are 
almost epigrammatic. The well-known line on a 
mother's tombstone is pretty and subtlely consolatory : 
" La premiere au rendezvous." Italians indulge in re- 
ligious quotations and extravagant expressions of sorrow 
or praise. In Japan a Mikado becomes somebody else 
when he dies, and a posthumous name is,engraved on his 
tombstone. It may be a wily devioe to escape the set- 
tlement of the little account that is held against him in 
the other world. 

But this attempt of the scavengers before mentioned 
seems as strained as the effort made not long ago, by an 
ingenious writer, to find the key-note to the characters of 
nations in their forms of salutation. Of course he came 
down heavily on the Americans for their unfortunate 
" How do you do? " i. e., " How do you prosper? " 

The older portion of Lone Mountain is marked by an 
overgrowth of obituary poetry dashed with execrable 
spelling. The bereaved German who insisted on his 
wife's name being spelt Fany on her tombstone had an 
eye to saving a dime by the omission of the other n, and 

confessed as much ; but what excuse is there for " 

, of parrish Drumlane?" 

On quite a handsome little monolith we struck a gem 
in the shape of the following : 

"Brothers we did all agree 
This purchase stone to buy 
For to protect our brother's bones 
Who underneath do lie." 

This extraordinary unpunctuated poem is followed by 
the names of the sur-riiors, three of them. Now, would 
somebody kindly explain the construction of who? Is 
it the brothers who lie, or the bones who lie ? And is 
purchase a vague sort of dreamy adjective, or is it a past 
participle from which the "d" has been economically 
dropped ? 

Another stone remarks in a general way that she was 
chaste, bright, fresh as morning dew ; that she sparkled, 
was exhaled, and went to heaven. There is something 
uncomfortably suggestive of a glass of beer in this, that 
mars the poetry of the idea. 

Not far from this stone stands another, bearing the in- 
scription — 

" Farewell dear wife my life is past 

My love for you until/ death did last 
Ana after me no sorrow take • 
But love my children for my sake." 

In the third line how neatly does the dear departed 
express a wish that his widow may not marry again ! 

The most interesting part of this cemetery, as of any, 
is the old, old neglected corner, weed-choked, blackberry- 
grown, where the falling crosses and discolored marbles 
peer out of their arbors of rank weeds and whisper 
blankly, " We are forgotten." So vividly is this conse- 
quence upon death brought to mind that you feel yourself 
growing a little dismal in spite of your philosophy. 

The children's graves present a peculiar and rather 
pitiful appearance, with their small, glass-faced cupboards 
filled with broken toys, bits of colored china cups and 
saucers, bead necklaces, and battered little dolls. 
Surely these are things to be sheltered in that solemn 
drawer at home, not to be stuck up for every passer-by 
to wonder at and smile over. 

One of these dreary little graves is completely latticed 
over, and in the gloomy room within, the name of the 
baby occupant swings on a small square of picture- 
bordered card-board, over a raised grave of solid marble. 
Such an incongruous set out! Part of the long French 
ephaph, translated, reads : "The little child that lies 

beneath died, leaving desolate a father, mother, and 
brothers, but especially a grandfather." 

" He was a religious poet ; pray for him," is the request 
on a time-stained cross. 

A writer in an Atlantic Monthly of i860, in a chapter 
entitled "A Day with the Dead," almost frenzied by some 
obituary poems, remarks: "Seriously, modern epitaphs 
are a burlesque on religion, a caricature of all things holy, 
divine, and beautiful, and an outrage uj>on the common 
sense and culture of the community. A collection of 
comic churchyard poetry might be made in this place 
which would eclipse the productions of Mr. K. N. 
Pepper, and cause a greater army of readers to explode 
than his " Noad to a Whealbarrer "or the "Grek Slaiv" 
has done. 

In the same chapter (after quoting an epitaph where the 
inmate of the tomb is spoken of in the first verse as 
unconsciously lying under ground, and in the next verse 
as flying freely round 'Heaven) he asks: "Does our 
theology furnish us with no clear conception of the state 
of the soul after death? .... If not, why, as a 
matter of good taste, if for no weightier reasons, in 
records almost imperishable like these, leave the matter 
alone! " 

On the tombstones in this cemetery, whenever the state 
of the soul is broached, which is seldom, no vagueness 
seems to exist, as the spirit is always spoken of as being 
free to visit all places, but giving preference to camping 
round its own grave. 

On going out at the back of the cemetery you pass the 
sleeping place of the nameless ones whose graves are 
marked by short numbered crosses, with here and there 
a name scribbled in pencil. Certainly, it makes but little 
difference in the long run whether the headboard be 
numbered or lettered, but these rows of monotonous 
crosses look too doleful for words. 

Before we turned homeward we wildly determined to 
attain the summit of the mountain on which the huge 
cross is raised, and as the wind was blowing roughly we 
had a breathless time of it getting to the top. But a 
wonderful view awaited us — the distant water, the shining 
city, the hills, the park, the Presidio, and the nestling 
cemeteries, all as clear as a picture. The cross was 
originally set slantingly, but in this position it looked so 
accidentally tumble-down that it was speedily placed 
erect. Its base is scarred with a network of names and 

Seen from the bare crown of Lone Mountain, our city 
looks wonderfully beautiful, and even the much abused 
fog takes a different aspect, as from the wtndy height you 
watch it whirling in from the ocean. Marion. 


Boston furnishes a good example of a training school. 
In the basement of the Latin school is a carpenter shop 
provided with twenty workbenches and a separate box for 
each of two hundred boys, in which to keep his finished 
or unfinished work. Only boys of fourteen or over are 
found fit for the instruction, and these are selected from 
the upper classes of the grammar schools. They are 
volunteers; the consent of their parents is obtained; they 
agree that the work in the shop shall not interfere with 
their studies, and the grammar school teachers use their 
discretion in allowing pupils to attend the shop. The 
two hundred boys are divided into ten classes ot twenty 
each. The instruction is all given on week days in school 
hours, there being a class-drill of two hours each morning 
and atternoon. Fully one-third of the boys have rich 
parents. After the first three or four lessons it is impos- 
sible to keep the grades of work uniform, owing to the 
difference in the mechanical ability of the pupils. The 
boys are invariably interested in their work. The instruc- 
tor, George Smith, held the same position for ten years 
at the institute of technology. The whole course runs 
from September to July. The instructor begins in Sep- 
tember, by giving each boy a rough board which he is 
required to plane and saw, and make into a box with 
square corners. This familiarizes him with the use of 
the various kinds of saws and of the plane. The boy is 
next required to make a box with riveted corners. He 
then makes a mitre-box and cuts the mitres himself, prov- 
ing his work by constructing another box by its aid. 
Lessons are then taken in dove-tailing, common and 
blind. The next step is a picture-frame, and then a case 
with a couple of drawers, which familiarizes him with the 
use of half-inch stock. He next produces a tool-chest 
with panel cover, then a writing-desk, and lastly a table. 

When lovely woman throws a rock, 

A contumacious hen to scare, 
It gives the artistic eye a shock 

To mark her attitude and air. 
But be- not to your danger blind, 

If you should be beside her then; 
At once a place of safety find — 

That is to say, stand near the hen. 

Italian antiquarians have discovered false teeth in a 
skull which was excavated in an ancient Etruscan ceme- 
tery. The sepulchre from which the skull was taken 
dates, according to experts, from the fifth to the sixth 
century B. C. The false teeth are animal teeth, and are 
attached to the natural teeth of the skull by means of 
small gold plates. 

The Baroness De Struve, wife of the Russian Minister 
at Washington : " I do not like to speak French anywhere. 
It is a foolish and frivolous language. Why should one 
use it when one can express herself in English, which is 
the noblest and best language in the world? I am proud 
to speak the language of the Americans." 

The English journalist who inquired through these col- 
umns the other day, why Americans disliked England, 
would be surprised by the number and explicitness of the 
answers to this inquiry that have been received at this 
office. The number of these answers at least testifies to 
the popular interest on the subject. The nature of the 
answers is twofold. One form of answer is not an expla- 
nation, but a denial. The writers declare that Ameri- 
cans do not dislike England. Those who admit the dis- 
like explain and justify it by citing the fact that the sym- 
pathy of England during our civil war went with the 
attempt to destroy the government of the United States. 
They allege, also, that England is a domineering and 
bullying i>ower, which has got herself heartily disliked in 
every quarter of the globe. 

We are not prepared to deny that there is something 
in these explanations, and that they go some distance 
toward justifying a dislike of England on the part of those 
who entertain it. At the same time we should say that 
the best general reply to our correspondent's inquiry is 
the simple statement that Americans do not dislike 
England. There is a certain survival of the feeling left 
by the Revolution; but although this is of some value as 
material for Fourth of July speeches, and although it is 
an active sentiment among American schoolboys, it does 
not much affect the adult American. There is a great 
deal of talking and writing against England done by 
American citizens of Irish birth, who find it useful in 
politics. That Irish-Americans dislike England heartily 
there can be no doubt ; nor, in our opinion, can there be 
much doubt that they have very good reasons for dislik- 
ing her. They are quite willing to have their sentiments 
accepted as those of the American people, and if one 
were to derive his opinions from newspaper articles com- 
posed by Irish-American writers for Irish-American read- 
ers, he would very likely conclude that the American 
people spent in hating England all the time they could 
spare from their more urgent occupations. 

Americans know very well that this is not the case. 
So far from considering that the interests of civilization 
would be served by the defeat of England, they are much 
more nearly of the opinion expressed the other day by a 
Vienna newspaper, that " the last days of England's 
power would be the last days of European liberty." This, 
it is true, is an exaggeration ; but it is an exaggeration 
of an important truth. England has been the pioneer in 
Europe of political progress, and is to-day politically by 
far the most advanced nation in Europe. She has shown 
that an extension of civil liberty not only does not 
threaten the cause of order but is itself the surest guaran- 
tee of order. She alone has been unaffected by the revo- 
lutionary storms which have swept over the Continent, 
because she had gained by peaceable evolution the goal 
which other nations were compelled to aim at throught 
revolution. It is true that the social and political con- 
stitution of England still continues anomalies and in- 
equalities from which our country is happily free. There 
are still survivals in it of privileges inherited from an 
earlier stage of political progress. But this is precisely 
because the free England of modern times has been de- 
veloped by a slow and peaceable process from feudal 
England without a solution of historical continuity. 
What we have done is an advance upon the English ex- 
ample which would have been alike impossible in En- 
gland itself, and in this country without the example of 

It is quite impossible for intelligent America to sympa- 
thize with the government of Russia, which is in form 
an autocracy, and in fact a brutal and corrupt oligarchy, 
against a power to which civilization owes so much as it 
owes to England. As for the sentiment of individual 
Americans toward individual Englishmen, that is quite 
another matter. It depends altogether upon the char- 
acter of the individuals concerned. But we do not be- 
lieve there is a community in the United States in which 
an Englishman who is likeable as a human being finds 
himself disliked because he is an Englishman, or finds 
his nationality a disadvantage to him in any respect what- 
ever. — New York Times. 

George Sand was the last of that illustrious fraternity 
of chosen spirits that flourished fifty years ago in France, 
of whom Victor Hugo was the last survivor. Lamartine, 
Theophile Gautier, Michelet, Alfred de Musset, Balzac, 
George Sand, were the names that then resounded in the 
literary world of Paris, while now Emile Zola and Alex- 
andre Dumas fils are its principal adornments. George 
Sand's and Balzac's novels form, as it were, the connect- 
ing link between the world of romance of the eighteenth 
century and our own. She has carried the idealism of 
Jean Jacques's Xouvelle Htldise and the poetry of Cha- 
teaubriand's Ren'ee into our prosaic nineteenth century, 
while Balzac presented to his contemporaries as vivid re- 
flections of life as any to be found in the pages of Manon 
Lescaut or Gil Bias. The authoress of Indiana is the 
high-priestess of the romantic school ; the author of I^e 
Pert Goriot the exponent of the realistic. " Love must 
be idealized in fiction," she says, in the Histoire de ma 
\*ie. " We must give it all the force and all the aspira- 
tions we have felt ourselves, besides all the pain we nave 
seen and suffered. Under no circumstances must it ever 
be debased. It must triumph or die, and we must not 
be afraid to invest it with an importance in life which 
lifts it altogether above ordinary sentiments." Balzac, 
her fellow-worker, used to say, " Vou seek men as they 
ought to be ; I take them as they are. I idealize and ex- 
aggerate their vices; you their virtues." — Temple Bar. 

Dr. Fordyce Barker, one of General Grant's physicians, 
expresses himself in strong terms about his inforced 
notoriety in connection with the General's illness. He is 
doing what he can for his illustrious patient, he says, and 
it is very distasteful to him to see his name daily in the 
newspapers. It is one of the penalties of the situation. 




How to dress in accordance with principles of health, comfort I 
and true art, without undergoing social martyrdom, is the prac- I 
tical question. . . . Shoes with low, broad heels, with wide 
Boles and roomy uppers, are admissible in point of custom, and 
can be readily procured of anatomical shoemakers. — Kate /. fack- 
son, in North American Review for fune. 

The received walking boot is shaped to fit the foot, has 
a round but not positively pointed toe, and buttons suffi- 
ciently far above the ankle to be a support. It is usually 
of fine, soft kid, or of kid with cloth top, though some- 
times, if the brightness of patent leather is a delight, a 
boot having a kid upper and patent leather vamp is 
chosen. Heels are of all heights and shapes, and wom- 
ankind may suit themselves, but the medium between the 
low, square heel and the stilt-like arrangement is in best 
taste. Walking boots of black kid faced with shagreen, 
having low heels, pointed toes, and fifteen small buttons, 
are shown at the leading houses. Fancy boots of P'rench 
kerseymere in tiny black and white checks, made gaiter 
fashion, faced with patent leather and fastened with but- 
tons, are among the novelties. 

For evening wear black satin slippers with high heels 
and very short toes are in vogue, and with them black 
silk stockings are worn. Low shoes are made of patent 
leather or kid, and they are laced with short, black silk 
strings, which are tied in a tight bow at the top. As one 
may walk in these shoes without danger, they are often 
preferred to black satin slippers, except for very ceremo- 
nious occasions. ■ Crocodile, alligator and other fancy 
leathers are worn for lawn shoes, and are very pretty. 
House shoes and slippers of fine kid and satin are shown, 
with embroidery and bows of satin on the toe and instep, 
and fancy red, yellow and blue silk linings. There are 
little red slippers for the boudoir, which, when worn with a 
Mother Hubbard wrapper trimmed with lace, remind me 
of Goody Two Shoes. A well-fitting and well-appearing 
boot is more than a wellspring of pleasure, for it keeps 
wrinkles from the face, and makes long and delightful 
walks possible. 

Howard Mudge Newhall, who is an authority, gives 
some good advice about buying shoes. He says : " The 
price of a pair of shoes is a riddle when they are on the 
feet. The price of other articles your neighbors know, 
analyzing the cost of n aterials in your clothing as cor- 
rectly as if they had done your buying. The materials 
used in any piecemeal articles which can be made at 
home, if desired, become more familiar than materials 
which must always be bought in a complete form, such as 
a shoe. In buying a dress, for instance, the fabric is per- 
chance bought at one store, the braid at another, and the 
buttons at still another; or a bonnet frame from one store 
is trimmed with the newest shade of ribbon from another. 
But shoes are not bought by piecemeal. People buy 
them as they buy horses, taking the dealer's word and 
using their own judgment. Ladies who pride themselves 
that they can buy silk that will not grow shiny, calicoes 
that will wash, carpets that will not fade, and real lace, 
draw the line at the product of the shoemaker. An in- 
telligent purchase of foot-wear should be added to the 
accomplishments of the average buyer. 

" The great point to be sought is wear, whether a shoe 
be low-priced or high-priced. There are other points to 
examine, of course, but a shoe that does not wear well does 
not meet the first requirement of a shoe. It is bad 
enough to break in a new shoe, anyhow, and a good wear- 
ing article will save the torture of a new pair every time 
there is a new moon. Ten or twenty-five cents makes a 
great difference in the kind and amount of leather that 
can be used by the manufacturer. Twenty-five cents on 
a low-priced grade of shoe will substitute a goatskin up- 
per for a sheepskin, and a solid leather sole for one that 
is only partly leather. Fifty cents will often give a dol- 
lar in wear. A shoe should never be bought for its 
beauty of outline only, but for its wearing qualities as 
well. It is not the kid, pebble or straight goat-figured 
finish that gives the wear, but the quality of the goatskin 
upon which the finish is made. Buyers generally should 
evince the same desire to distinguish a sheepskin from a 
goatskin that they evince to distinguish cotton from 

" Men's shoes are made in a substantial manner, and are 
invariably recommended to the purchaser for wearing 
properties. Although made of heavy leather, they are 
sold on the right principle, and the true principle upon 
which to buy shoes for man, woman and child. 

" An important consideration also is a good fit. It is 
almost as important to select a good-fitting as a well- 
made shoe. An ill-fitting shoe gets out of shape easily, 
and is constantly subjected to strain where undue pressure 
is not provided for. There is nothing so necessary to 
good solid comfort as a perfect fitting shoe. If it does 
not fit it is a nuisance. The person who wears a pinch- 
ing shoe with the expectation that a small size looks 
smaller is much mistaken. The foot will spread out in 
any kind of a shoe, and the size of the foot becomes far 
more noticeable in a shoe that is too small than when one 
of the right size is purchased. The best made shoe in the 
world will not stand the strain when a person wears a 
shoe too small for the foot. Half the shoes returned for 
the inspection of manufacturers are damaged by squeez- 
ing a large foot into a small shoe. They should not be 

bought by the size and width mark. The only safe way 
is to fit the foot, let the size be what it may. This is 
comparatively an easy matter nowadays, as each year 
manufacturers study more and more the mechanical con- 
struction of lasts. A number of widths are furnished by 
well equipped manufacturers, the measurements being 
graded even to an eighth of an inch. 

" There is no reason why a serviceable and well-fitting 
shoe should not also be handsome. If a last has a correct 
heel measure, and is full at the ball, a shapely opera toe 
is as practical as any other style. A square-toed sole is 
not necessarily the most comfortable. In fact, Philadel- 
phia is 'he only locality where there is any great demand 
for square toes at the present time. The prevailing styles 
are narrow toes, opera toes, and the common sense. 
With proper measurement, any one of the fashionable 
styles is practical and easy fitting. Extremely high heels 
are less worn than formerly. The best manufacturers 
now aim to secure the natural pitch of the foot. On all 
qualities of goods the style of heel is more sensible than 
for many years past. Shoes can be produced so rapidly 
that every cautious dealer will generally have the correct 
style. The points for the consumer to consider are 
quality and fit. A handsome shoe can smile and be a 
villain just like any other villain. People should wear 
serviceable shoes, buying tor quality as well as for beauty. 
The manufacturers make what the storekeepers buy, and 
they in turn buy what they know they can sell. As a rule, 
fifty per cent additional price at the factory will give one 
hundred per cent in wear to the customer. With proper 
usage and occasional repairs, a good pair of shoes will 
wear as long in proportion as do other garments." 

Combs in the hair are becoming popular. Those worn 
some years ago with large balls are reappearing, and are 
placed at the top of the plaits of hair, on a level with the 
top of the head, and serve in the daytime to keep the 
short bonnets in place. Tortoise-shell Spanish combs are 
also worn, with the hair dressed a little lower. With 
these plaits of hair gilded hairpins are much used, and 
sometimes they all stand out a little. As many as thirty 
are sometimes to be seen, studded all over the plaits or 
coils. Very large horseshoe pins in cut jet are also pop- 
ular, three being usually seen. The hair is sometimes 
turned up, and the plaits or coils arranged not quite on 
top of the head, so that they partly show under the bon- 
nets. This suits some heads better than having all the 
hair on the crown. A merry-thought in diamonds is a 
fashionable present to a bride. It is of the natural size, 
and is placed in the hair, dress, or on a wide bonnet- 
string bow. In gold or silver, the merry-thought is given 
to bridesmaids. A shamrock leaf in diamonds and 
enamel is another ornament of the day. 

It has been feared in some quarters that an Anglo- 
Russian war, which is now threatened, would advance 
the price of carpets, but the manufacturers do not think 
that such a conflict would materially affect the market, at 
least for some time. Nearly eighty-five per cent of the 
wool used for carpets in this country is obtained from 
Russia or countries on the Russian border. Of course, a 
war between England and Russia might lead to the clos- 
ing of the ports through which this wool reaches the United 
States, and in such an event there would be an advance 
in the market. It is thought, however, that the wool 
from Moscow, which is a great market, could reach this 
country by way of German or French ports. Owing to 
our peculiar tariff, the English wools are cheaper at Liv- 
erpool than the inferior Russian wools, and it is more 
economical to import the higher-priced but inferior article 
from the Czar's empire than the cheaper English wool. 
The fact that the duty on English wool is four times as 
great as that on the Russian article explains the matter. 
The manufacturers of carpets in this country are making 
goods on a very small margin now, and any very decided 
advance in Russian wool would compel an advance in 
carpets. As a master of fact, there has already been a 
slight advance in the price of this material, on account of 
the warlike news from 1 ,ondon. There are several sources 
from which cheap wools could be secured, however, and 
for this reason the carpet men do not fear a very great or 
immediate rise in prices. 

Porcelain fruit knives are among the novelties. The 
blades are white and semi-transparent, and the handles 
are in different colors. These knives are really a revival 
of an old style. They are beautiful, and possess at least 
one advantage over silver, inasmuch as they may be kept 
clean without so much trouble. 

Lunch tables are set without cloths. This is the correct 
form, but, of course, necessitates a handsome polished 
table top. Some persons, however, prefer to have some- 
thing upon the board, so use satin or damask cloths one 
yard square, heavily fringed, in the center; upon this is 
placed the fruit, flowers and bon-bons, while the plates, 
glasses, etc., are arranged upon the polished outside. 

The dining-room should be lighted from low side 
brackets, with wax candles and lamps with colored shades, 
giving a pretty effect ; miniature glass shades and globes 
take the place of the paper ones, which are more 
dangerous, and soon become shabby. These are used 
| upon the candelabra at each end of the table. The most 

beautiful are of old Dresden, though cut-glass an 
are quite as much used. 

An embroidered tea-cloth is a sine qua non, as many 
persons think. It may be either embroidered all over in 
a set pattern, or merely bordered with crewel work. 
Yellow lasmine or pink convolvulus is suitable for the 
latter purpose ; they give sufficient color without contrast- 
ing too strongly with the white ground. Vivid colors are 
objectionable, as the china generally affords all that is 
necessary; and we must study to have our cloth decora- 
tions harmonize with our cups and saucers, so that we 
may secure a good tone of color throughout. 

Persons who cling to old-fashioned ideas retain their 
fondness for Marsailles quilts, and always use them, while 
others have the bed dressed up to correspond with the 
surroundings. Cretonne quilts and shams are used to 
match the covering in the room, but it is in questionable 
taste, and takes away the attractive look of what is always 
pretty— a white, fresh, clean bed. Spreads and pillow 
coverings are used in antioue, point, guipure and Notting- 
ham laces, lined with a color to correspond with the 
room, and, although pretty, cannot compare with those 
of fine linen cambric or thin muslin. 

Nature is not always gracious, and to the poor woman 
who has a short, thick waist there is but one remedy. 
She must use great discretion in selecting materials for 
dresses, but a good corset is an absolute necessity. 
There are a number of houses in the city that handle 
>^ood grades of corsets, but Freud & Sons' is still the 
"old reliable." I always depend upon them myself, 
and send all my friends there, because they take every 
pains to fit and therefore please every one who patronizes 
them. In bustles and pads their house cannot be ex- 
celled, and some of their lace-trimmed satin corsets are 
fit for a duchess in elegance of fit and manufacture. At 
Freud's can be found all that is necessary to make up a 
:raceful tout ensemble, and that is the one wish dear to all 
feminine hearts, because it is a very important factor in 
baing beautiful. 

The primrose may be fairly called the flower of Enclish 
Conservatives. To wear it is to proclaim one's self the 
idmirer of Lord Beaconsfield and a member of the Prim- 
rose League. On the anniversary of his death, which 
occurred on the igth of April, i88r,all Torydom appeared 
wearing the primrose, his favorite flower. At Birming- 
ham it is said two hundred and fifty thousand primrose 
bouquets were sold that day. Allowing for all exaggera- 
tion incident to the excited political feelings of the time, 
it is stated by English papers that the sales of such 
bouquets de boutonniere throughout England were enor- 
mous. The primrose promises to be to the Conservatives 
what the white rose was to the Cavaliers and Jacobites, 
the violet to the Bonapartes, and the lilies to the Bour- 
bons. Corporal Violet came back from Elba, but not 
r rom St. Helena. Neverthelesss, the Bonapartes treas- 
ured the flower, and wore it as openly as they dared. 
Little bunches of violets in some mysterious way were 
left on the graves of Ncy and other victims of Bourbon 
vengeance, despite the efforts of the royal police. Finally 
the violet drove the lily out of France, only to become, 
in its turn, trre emblem of a broken party and an exiled 
dynasty. The white rose was dyed crimson in the blood 
of the Jacobites, and the lily blooms only in the Fau- 
bourg St. Germain. It was not until the death of Earl 
Beaconsfield that the primrose became famous. His 
lordship greatly admired the flower, and his admirers 
have given it a political significance by wearing it in 
memory of him, and as an expression of their political 
sympathies. In the present complications with Russia, it 
is more than likely that the little pale yellow primrose 
will become a magic symbol around which the war party 
will marshal their forces in the coming election, and if 
successful, who knows where it will end? 

The primrose has never been looked upon as ignoble, 
for in ancient mythology it was called Paralisos, after the 
name of a beautiful youth, a son of Flora, who died of 
grief for the loss of his beloved, and was thereupon meta- 
morphosed into this flower, which has ever since divided 
the favor of the poets with the violet and rose. The fable 
seems to show that it had a memorial character, and it 
has been observed that Shakespeare makes it a funeral 
flower for youth : 

With fairest flowers. 
Whilst summer lasts, and I live here, Kiddle, 
I'll sweeten thy sad grave. Thou shall not lack 
The flower that's like thy lace, pale primrose. 

Spenser at an early date seems to have associated the 
primrose with premature decease, for with his eye upon 
it, he exclaims : 

Oh, that so fair a flower so soon should fade, 
And through untimely tempests fall away! 

Milton, also, in his touching and exquisite monody on 
Lycidas, says, 

Hring the rathe primrose that forsaken dies. 

These arc not the only passages in which the ]>oets in- 
troduce the primrose in connection with the idea of 
death; but I only add one more, and that again from 
Shakespeare, who speaks of — , 

Pale primroses, 
That die unmarried ere they can behold 
Bright Phoebus in his strength. 

F. E. W. 




Theoretically, a conscience is a very good thing ; prac- 
tically, in the present condition of the world, it is often a 
very uncomfortable possession. It is well enough to have 
a conscience that will work pleasantly, without a jar. 
For instance, such as will prevent the majority of man- 
kind from reaching into each other's pockets and extract- 
ing small coin, or knocking men in the head of a dark 
night, in order to gain possession of their valuables, but 
will not interfere with people taking advantage of their 
neighbors in trade. It is a great satisfaction to a man of 
business who has amassed an immense fortune -let us say- 
by a very mild kind of sharp practice — to leel that in giv- 
ing a few thousands to a church or some benevolent in- 
stitution, he has obtained a partial indulgence for his 
peccadillos, just as the ruffianly border barons and free- 
booters of the middle ages and the banditti of later times 
imagined that by bestowing a share of their booty on some 
favorite shrine or monastery they would at least be saved 
the everlasting pains of hell, even though they must en- 
dure a long scorching in purgatory. 

It is a consolation both to the individual and the com- 
munity that most men of the present time have a whole- 
some regard both for the laws and public opinion, and 
attempt to preserve a semblance of propriety in their con- 
duct. The French philosopher Rochefoucauld truthfully 
says, " Hypocrisy is the homage which vice pays to vir- 
tue"; and if, as Carlyle says, the philanthropy of the 
nineteenth century is sham, it is something in our favor 
that we think enough of our fellow-men to pretend to 
love them. The Rambler has known a number of men 
who fancied that they were atoning for very large vices 
by the exhibition of very small virtues; but his private 
opinion is that if, as we are told, there is a place where 
all disguises are stripped off, their self-congratulations 
will not there stand them in very good stead. A libertine 
who would not hesitate to entice away either the wife or 
the innocent daughter of a friend, and will gloat over the 
success of his villainy, will maintain that he is not such a 
bad fellow after all, because he is always ready to stand 
treat for the boys, and will lend a c ompanion five dollars 
on demand, if he has it, and not be particular as to the 
payment. So the gambler, or the bunko steerer, who 
would fleece an unsophisticated stranger of all his hard- 
earned savings, will divide his last dime with a pal, or 
freely give a pittance to a tramp or a street-beggar, either 
for food or whisky; and the man who has spent his life 
in lying and cheating, calling it business, will consider 
his duty well done if he occasionally offers a liberal dona- 
tion for a purpose of public good. 

The Rambler is no cynic. He believes there is good 
in humanity— a great deal of it ; but he is convinced that 
the process of development must go on for a long period 
yet, before it will be possible for the general practice of 
mankind to conform with their professions. It is always 
well, however, to have an ideal, though we may never 
attain its goal. Let us trust that the few good deeds 
most men can boast of may have their reward both here 
and hereafter. 

This is not a moral essay. The Rambler proposes to 
take the world as he finds it; he has no intention of at- 
tempting the reform of the world, or even this Christian 
community of San Francisco, as he is confident either 
task would be far beyond his ability. His purpose here 
was to say something of the inconvenience of a too sen- 
sitive conscience in the arena of everyday life. 

Let us glance briefly at the pages of history in this 
connection. Caesar had a conscience, and forgave his 
enemies for trying to crush him, as he did them, and he 
was treacherously murdered by the men who had 
groveled at his feet, declaring that they owed the breath 
of their bodies to his clemency. Napoleon had no con- 
science, and men reverenced him as a demigod, thou- 
sands gladly laying down their lives in his service. Both 
men fell ; but Caesar was overthrown before he had even 
won the title of sovereign, while Napoleon, secure on his 
throne, might have reigned to the end of the chapter had 
he been content to set any limit to his insatiate am- 
bition. In our day we find that Bismarck, who has no 
conscience, is universally acknowledged to be the ideal 
statesman of his time. Beaconsfield, who had no con- 
science, though he failed to have his last political acts 
approved by a small majority of the popular vote of his 
country, had the satisfaction of knowing that he, a Jew- 
ish adventurer, was regarded as the political saint of the 
proudest and most exclusive aristocracy of Europe, and 
had in death the honor of having a wreath placed on his 
tomb by a grateful queen, whom he had flattered by 
making an Empress; but poor Gladstone, who fhas a 
conscience, has now to bear the abuse of a large class of 
would-be critics at home and abroad, because he re- 
fuses to plunge his country needlessly into a bloody war 
which would cost millions of treasure, thousands of 
precious lives, could profit nothing in the end, and 
might result in failure. 

To come down to smaller things, let us consider the 
effect of over-conscientiousness on some of the ordinary 
pursuits of life. It will be unnecessary to allude to its 
influence on trade, for it is a well-known fact that very 
few business men are greatly troubled by qualms of con- 
science; but we may consider how it works in literature. 

Philosophers may, indeed, afford such luxury, since in 
this age they must have a settled income to furnish shelter 
and sustenance; for now no man, no matter how wise he 
might be, would be allowed to live like Diogenes, in a 
tub ; and if a member of the Concord school were to at- 
tempt to go through the streets of the highly cultured city 
of Boston with a yellow robe and a bowl to collect pen- 
nies, like the Buddha, he would be landed in jail, to 
await action by the lunacy commission. Our philoso- 
phers must live in decent habitations, provide for their 
families, and wear black dress-coats when on the plat- 
form, like ordinary mortals; but they are graciously 
allowed to publish books at their own expense, for an in- 
definite period of time, until their particular hobbies have 
a chance to become fashionable. Poor humdrum mor- 
tals who have their living to make must, however, bring 
their brains as well as their hands to the market that will 
pay; and he must not have too strong scruples as to the 
use they will have to make of either. How many clever 
writers have to write Democratic articles, though them- 
selves Republicans; how many must advocate free trade 
who personally favor protection; and vice versa. It is 
said of the elder Bennett that he would not have a man 
on the editorial staff of the JFerald who could not write as 
well against as in favor of his personal opinions. The 
following anecdote will illustrate what class of men his 
plan developed : 

Some years since a clever writer was sent out by the 
Herald as special correspondent, to investigate the con- 
dition of a mine in Mexico, which was at the time attract- 
ing great public interest. On his arrival at the City of 
Mexico, he found that he would have to travel two hun- 
dred and fifty miles over a rough road, across arid plains 
and rocky mountains, under a blazing sun, to reach his 
destination; so he wisely decided to forego the journey, 
hunted up a man thoroughly familiar with the country, 
and wrote a full history of the mine on the cool piaza of 
his hotel, sipping iced lemonade, and enjoying all the 
luxuries of city life. How much better than risking his 
health, perhaps his life, on a long and useless journey, 
since both his employers and the public were just as well 

Poor George Eliot — the Rambler has already mentioned 
her a number of times in these papers, but must really be 
pardoned for bringing in the name once more — might 
have lived ten, perhaps twenty, years longer had she been 
content to forego having a literary conscience. How she 
worried herself over her editorial work on the Westminster 
Rerieiv, fearing that every number would show some 
falling-off, or, if she should not make a failure in her own 
articles, some others would write something stupid. Fancy 
an editor of a daily in trepidation lest one of his corre- 
spondents should make a misstatement, or one of his edi- 
torial writers allow a slip in grammar to creep into his 
article! In the same way she wrote her novels — in a 
constant fume, wearing her life away in a vain effort to 
obtain ideal perfection. It would seem too much to pay 
for a reputation for writing fine books, to develop a style 
only at the expense of a life of torment and a premature 
death. Is it not better to don the fool's cap and jingle 
our bells before the multitude, who will pay far better for 
being amused than instructed, and let posterity, if they 
will, forget us? J. D. S. 


"Whence came I? Whither do I go?" These are 
questions which have been asked from time immemo- 
rial. As soon as one awakes to the full consciousness of 
his existence here, he begins to feel stunned — somewhat 
as old Vulcan must have felt when he struck upon the 
far-famed Isle of Lemnos. Endowed with faculties 
which in many respects are limited, gaining knowledge 
which is liable to be inaccurate, and sure to be painfully 
acquired, he finds between himself and the knowledge 
which he covets a barrier which is impenetrable. 

If this be so, it may be well askea, Then why waste 
time in the consideration of the unknowable? Just be- 
cause, in spite of its hopelessness, it possesses an intense 
fascination for us; the same that is experienced when 
you stand upon the edge of the crater and look into the 
bubbling gulf below ; which you feel when placed upon 
some high and storied monument, and with bated breath 
gaze upon the plain beneath. It is not particularly 
beneficial to you, in a practical sense, thus to allow your- 
self to be spell-bound, but it is at least very human and 
very natural. 

Admit that we cannot solve the problem, yet we are at 
liberty to use such faculties and facilities as we have, and 
try to attain to probabilities. That faculty which is 
man's proudest boast, his reason, is but the badge of his 
mighty inferiority. It has been said that God is om- 
niscient. He therefore never reasons. Reasoning is 
groping in the dark ; stretching out the hands and reach- 
ing for the object sought — like one who, after being 
turned around in blindman's buff, tries to get his bear- 
ings. Then let us reach a little for the probabilities; it is 
the best that, under the circumstances, we can do. 
We can examine into the matter, and see what are some 
of the arguments presented by the debaters upon the 
question, " Resolved, That man is mortal." The affirma- 
tive says : 

One. Mind is but a function of matter; matter is 
eternal, but this, its function, is transitory. 

Break in a piece of a man's skull, let it impinge upon 
the brain, and he becomes at once the play of the in- 
sanest vagaries, the wildest hallucinations. Let the man 
die, and his functional activity is ended. It has played 
its part, and its fitful fever is over. 

Two. It is instructive to observe the position of the 
world in the economy of the universe, and to consider a 
little what the material universe means — what we have 
learned regarding it. 

The globe which we inhabit is an infinitely small satel- 
lite of a star of the third or fourth magnitude — probably one 
of the countless suns which constitute the Milky Way. 
The " Regent of the day" is but an inconsequent and insig- 
nificant fragment of the great whole. Revolution appears 
to be the general law. Suns throw off satellites, the latter 
cast off others, and all together circle about in harmony; 
the satellites grow cold and die, and return to the bosom 
of their mother; the suns are gradually drawn toward 
each other as they cool, and toward a common center; 
all consolidate ; the one body of inconceivable vastness 
evolves awhile, and then breaks up and flies off to con- 
stitute such a universe as we now behold. And this again 
and again. With such a scheme as this, that which by 
us is denominated " time " can hardly be said to have an 
existence. It is merely the enacting of a titanic pano- 
rama. And in this view of things, what kind of a figure 
does the earth cut? One grain of sand from the ocean 
shore would be monstrously unequal, on account of its 
great comparative size, to the representation of our earth- 
home, with all its varied activities. The invisible satellite 
of a grain of sand would better represent it. Under these 
circumstances language fails to describe the insignificance 
of man, who thinks himself eternal. 

Three. If we admit that the spirit of man is loaned to 
him at his birth, yet the rivulet, which is the product of 
the sea, through the intervention of the rain that arises 
from it and falls to make the little brook, must return to 
the bosom of the ocean again, there to be lost in its in- 

Four. Admitting another argument which may be 
urged in favor of immortality (which is the oriental tenet), 
that our own coalesces again with the Infinite Mind, yet, 
inasmuch as that form of existence cannot be individu- 
ally self-conscious, the individual cannot be'said to be 

Five. Would not any unprejudiced intelligence say 
that it would be useless to give life again to the teeming 
millions who have existed on the earth, because they have 
made a failure of this life? 

About a billion lie buried in the narrow strip of earth 
called Egypt. How many of them made a genuine suc- 
cess of life? So with the rest of the earth. What use is 
there in repeating an experiment which appears so un- 

Now let us look at the other side : 

One. To say that mind is merely a function of matter, 
is merely to raise a dust when we would do better to 
keep the air clear. It is merely one of those fatally facile 
terms which obscure the judgment. Mind is merely the 
employer, the user of matter, for temporary purposes — 
i. e., earth purposes. As well might one say that the 
man who employs a railway car for the purpose of rapid 
transit, is a function of the car. On the contrary, he 
merely uses the car for his present purpose. So with 
mind and matter. 

Tico and Fire. The mere fact that the physical envi- 
ronments of mind are insignificant, is not decisive of the 
question whether or not mind is greater than matter. 
On the contrary, it is obvious that mind is greater, because 
mind can understand matter, but matter cannot under- 
stand mind. Trammeled as it is with us, yet naught can 
prevent mind from traversing the whole universe. To 
matter there are infinitely narrower bounds. 

Three and Four. It is universally conceded that no 
matter is ever lost. It may change its form, but 
cannot be annihilated. By parity of reasoning, spirit, 
which we have no occasion to think less permanent and 
enduring than matter, must be eternal. Spirit is a species 
of force; no force is ever lost, therefore spirit is never lost. 
In answer to the averments that it must be returned to the 
ocean of spirit and be confounded with it, it should be 
urged that self-consciousness is as much a force as spirit 
is; therefore, self-conciousness once acquired, can never 
be lost. Again, the mere fact that our physical eyes can- 
not see spirit is not worth the purchase of a straw. The 
most persistent, powerful and constant forces in nature 
are those with respect to which we labor under the same 
infirmity. These are all the forces — notably that of elec- 
tricity — which are destined to prove our most valuable 
servants in the future. 

Moreover, we observe that every one of our longings, 
appetites and desires has an answer, in the shape of a 
gratification. If the longing of the spirit for immortality, 
| which is so intense, have no answer anywhere, then, so 
far as we know, it stands alone in the economy of What 
Is. Finally, to adopt the line of argument used by a 
writer in the May Century, " Things are not always as 
they seem." 

One of the points which it is most essential to teach to 
dawning intelligence is, not to be deceived by^appear- 
ances. The earth appears to be flat, but it is a round 


ball ; the sun seems to revolve around our globe, when 
the contrary is the case. It is the other train of cars, or 
the wharf, which appears to be moving. Man is con- 
stantly deceived by the very evidence of his senses. A 
whole Spanish army will testify that St. James Santiago, 
at the critical point of the battle, appeared U[>on a 
white charger, clad in heavenly armor, and routed the 
infidel. All the monstrous and unbelievable " miracles " 
of the ages are attended by such testimony as would 
hang the whole human family on a charge of murder, 
but they are undeniably false. When the spirit of man 
departs, some say "that is the end of him." They are 
guided by appearances — by what seems. Upon the 
tombs of the silent majority we read, " They rest in 
peace." Yet is it they, or we, that are engaged in cease- 
less activities? Our life here is but a little thing; it is 

" A cry between two silences; 
# # » # # 

A shaft from nature's quiver, cast 
Into the future from the past." 

Adley H. Cummins. 


The Story of Maty, from the press of G. W. Carleton 
&: Company, New York, is a story of the sufferings of the 
colored people and those who tried to befriend them dur- 
ing the reconstruction period. It shows how easily justice 
may be warped by prejudice, and how harsh the wardens 
of southern prisons were in the treatment of colored peo- 
ple under their charge. The book is full of dramatic 
situations, but the subject and treatment are in question- 
able taste, since both parties to the late rebellion are try- 
ing to forget it ever occurred. Such 'a novel has little 
literary merit, and as an instructor is twenty years behind 
time. The author withholds his name, but claims to be 
"an American." If so, he is one whose judgment is de- 
cidedly biased, and he is not likely to have many readers. 
For sale by A. L. Bancroft & Company. 

On Land and Sea, a novel, by William H. Thomes, is 
a narrative of a visit made by the author to California in 
1843. The descriptions and names of persons are won- 
derfully accurate, and the book is full of genial humor. 
Mr. Thomes was but fifteen years old at the time, and 
his recollections and impressions are remarkable, as is 
shown in the minute descriptions of the different points 
visited. In humor it reminds one of Mark Twain's Tom 
Saioyer, although the personality of Mr. Thomes is too 
apparent to make it in any sense an imitation. The book 
will be hailed by Californians with delight, because it 
deals with pioneer life before gold was discovered, and 
consequently with a phase which has almost entirely 
escaped the new school of California writers. Early in 
October Mr. Thomes will have in press the sequel, 
Leicey and L, or Sailor Boys' Wanderings; and if On Land 
and Sea may be taken as a criterion, we may hope for 
something out of the usual line of California literature. 
Mr. Thomes has an inimitable way of telling things, and 
his minute investigations while recently visiting the places 
described in On Land and Sea, with all the changes time 
has wrought, will make his new book trustworthy in de- 
scription as well as a charming story. Samuel Carson & 
Company are his agents. 

Harper's Magazine for June is full of interesting 
reading, and has more than the usual number of hand- 
some engravings. The frontispiece, " Paolo and Fran- 
cesca " is taken from the painting by G. F. Watts, R. A., 
and has an apt quotation from Dante's Lnfemo. Among 
illustrated papers are " Ladies' Day at the Ranch," by 
Alice Wellington Rollins; "A Wild Goose Chase," by 
F. D. Millet; "Santa Fe de Bogota," by Lieutenant H. 
R. Lemly, U. S. A.; "A Night with the Germans," by 
R. F. Zogbaum, and " Knoxville in the Olden Time," 
by Edmund Kirke. Besides the illustrated stories and 
poems there is an essay on " English in the Schools," by 
Professor A. S. Hill, which is an able digest of the sub- 

The North American Review for June contains an 
article entitled "Shall Silver be Demonetized," which 
question is ably argued by Professor W. G. Sumner, Presi- 
dent F. A. Walker, and Professor J. L. Laughlin ; 
"What is the Catholic's School Policy," by M. C. 
O'Byrne and Bishop John J. Keane, and "How Shall 
Women Dress," by E. M. King, Charles Dudley Warner, 
Elizabeth Stuart Phelps, William A. Hammond, and 
Kate J. Jackson, are admirably written, and contain 
valuable information; " Prohibition in Politics," by Gail 
Hamilton, and " French Spoliation Claims," by Edward 
Everett, are among the good things given us this month. 

Among the longer papers in Lippincotfs Magazine for 
June, none is more deserving of attention than " Letters 
from the Isthmus," by John Heard, Jr. The writer is a 
most intelligent observer, and his descriptions of Panama 
and the adjacent region commend themselves by their 
vivid and evidently veracious statements. " With the 
Conquerors in 1870," by Friedrich Stone Daniels, " What 
Shall a Woman Do When Her Husband Fails in Busi- 
ness," by an anonymous writer, "A Great Little Man," 
by John R. Tait, and " The Return of the Natives," are 
seasonable papers. There are several short stories in the 
number, besides the usual quota of good poetry. 

St. Nicholas for June is very attractive. The frontis- 
piece is a beautiful engraving, entitled "Old Pipes and 
the Dryad," followed by the story, by Frank R. Stockton. 
"Children of the Cold," by Lieutenant Schwatka, has 
six illustrations, and there are other handsomely illustrated 
papers by well-known authors. " From Zurich Town," 
a poem, by Celia Thaxter, and "His One Fault," 
Chapters XIX, XX, XXI, by J. T. Trowbridge, are espe- 
cially noticeable. 

Second Crop of Tickings from Tuck is a choice collec- 
tion of pieces, poems, and pictures from Tuck, and it is 
impossible to refrain from laughing long enough to say 
what they are like. Readers of the inimitable Tuck will, 
perhaps, have some idea what to expect, and their 
expectations will be fully realized in Tickings. 

Imbroglio, a drama by George Allender, is just issued 
by Samuel Carson & Company, San Francisco. 

Miss Ada S. Ballin is preparing an English edition of 
M. James Darmesteter's new work on El Mahdi. 

The Hon. Demas Barnes will give his views on " Mu- 
nicipal Government " in The Brooklyn Magazine. 

Daudet devotes the labor of a year to each novel he 
writes. As a consequence the public always hungers for 
Daudet's works. 

The fifth volume of Professor Mommsen's History of 
Rome, which has just appeared in Germany, is now being 
translated into English by Professor Dickson. 

Oscar Fay Adams says of Clinton Scollard : " In cer- 
tain particulars he comes nearer Austin Dobson than any 
American poet, without in any sense being an imitator of 

In Comparative Roots and Derivations, Dr. Abel, the 
distinguished linguist, endeavors to prove the original 
unity of European, Semitic and Indio-Germanic lan- 

Mme. Adam, the editor of La Nouvelle Revue, is writ- 
ing an account of Live Months at Guernsey. The vol- 
ume, it is said, will treat chiefly of " Victor Hugo at 

A competition for the best criminal novels has been 
opened by the Dresdener Gerichtszeitung. The prizes are 
four hundred and three hundred marks, and the latest 
term the 1st of September next. 

A French translation of The Siege of London is to be 
published in Paris soon. Messrs. Marpon & Flam- 
marion will be the publishers, and the first edition is to 
consist of fifty thousand copies. 

An expert purchased the other day of an itinerant 
book-peddler in London, for six cents, a rare volume of 
Increase Mather, published in Boston 1698, the real value 
of which is estimated at sixty dollars. 

The great jurist and rector of the Leipsic University, 
Professor Dr. Windscheid, has published a phamphlet, 
Bismarck as a Statesman and Parliamentarian, for the 
benefit of the Leipsic Monument of Victory. 

Messrs. Kegan, Paul & Company will in the course of 
the autumn publish Mr. W. W. Johnston's account of his 
recent explorations in Eastern Equatorial Africa, and his 
ascent of the snow-capped mount Kilima-niaro. 

A LJfe of General Gordon has just been published in 
Dutch, the sale of which is almost unprecedented in 
Holland. The whole of the fipst large edition was ordered 
before it was ready, and a second had to be issued at 
once. » 

S. Bensinger, Vienna, has just brought out the seven- 
teenth (the last but one) copy of the illustrated edition de 
luxe of Nicholaus Lenau's works, and is busily engaged 
upon his continuation of a like edition of Heinrich 

The famous Mazarin, or Gutenberg, Bible is to be 
reproduced in England by means of photo-lithography. 
W. E. A. Axon will contribute to the work a statement 
of the history and bibliography of this Bible, and of the 
circumstances in which it is printed. 

Mr. W. D. Howells's next story for the Century, to fol- 
low " The Rise of Silas Lapham " (which will be finished 
in the August number), will deal with the fortunes of a 
country boy in Boston, and with the perplexities, on his 
account, of the minister who has tried to help him with 

Mr. Edmund P. Yining has made an addition to the 
long list of paradoxes about early discoveries of America. 
The title of his forthcoming book is An Inglorious 
Columbus, or evidence that Hewui Shan and a party of 
Buddhist monks from Afghanistan discovered America 
in the fifth century. 

The Bible revisers base their confidence in the ultimate 
general acceptance of the New Version on the precedent 
afforded in the history of the King James Version, which 
came into general use despite the fact that it was not 
cordially received by the generation contemporaneous 
with its production. 

A new word, " literarian," a person devoted to literary 
pursuits, is proposed by the Literary World, which says : 
"Litterateur is foreign ; literary men is awkward, besides 
being restricted in gender ; literarian follows the analogy 

of 'parliamentarian,' is natural; it is also sensible 
euphonious and convenient." 

lames Anthony Fronde is the most productive of the 
historians of the day. Although his work as the literary 
executor of Thomas Carlyle has been only a short time 
out of the press, he is about to publish his History of the 
Eighteenth Century, and is engaged at present in editing 
an autobiography of Thomas Lccky. 

The Queen took with her to Aix-les-Bains a piece of 
literary work in whic h she is much interested. This is 
the materials for editing the literary remains of the late 
Duke of Albany. They will consist chiefly of his 
s|>eei hes, of which for two years before his death he had 
commenced to supply a fair collection. The prince rom- 
(>oscd his own speeches, bestowing infinite care upon 

Professor Julius Wellhausen's Trolcgomena to the History 
of Israel has been translated into English, under the 
author's supervision, and, with the addition of an ampli- 
fied reprint of his article " Israel " in the Encyclo- 
pedia Britannica, will be published this month by Messrs. 
A. it C. Black. The preface is written by Professor W. 
Robertson Smith, who has assisted in superintending the 
work in its preparation for the press. 

Labrador; A Sketch of its Teople, its Industries, and its 
Natural History, by Winfred Alden Stearns, is about to 
be published by Lee & Shephard, Boston. We know so 
little about Labrador that Mr. Stearns's record of personal 
experiences there is welcome. The book is the result of 
observations and researches made during three trips to 
Labrador, as a student of natural history. It is the only 
easily accessible description of Labrador, and that of it- 
self renders it important. FERRET. 


Tobacco is sent by a wise Providence to limit the 
power of woman. 

Corked or uncorked, the spirit of resignation has never 
been known to ferment. 

Boston girls have taken to painting pretty pictures on 
soda crackers. They send these works of art to their 
best young men. 

Once upon a banqueting evening, Tom Marshall, of 
Kentucky, advised a tipsy comrade to wrap himself in 
straw ana become a demijohn. 

" What do you think of my new dress, Hubby? Isn't 
it the handsomest one you ever saw? " " Yes, I confess 
it is; lace over everything, in fact." 

An Illinois woman has buried eleven husbands, and is 
still in the matrimonial market. Her motto is, " Men 
may come and men may go, but I go on forever." 

When Dr. Holmes's brother John was advised to take a 
wife and live in a better house, he said he presumed if he * 
should get a better half he would be sure of better 

A Cincinnati girl took laudanum because she was not 
asked to play the piano in company. It was better that 
she should do so than that the entire company should be 
compelled to take the dose of piano. 

" Did you notice, dear, at the party last evening, how 
grandly our daughter Clara swept into the room?" 
" Oh, yes, Clara can sweep into a room grandly enough, 
but when it comes to sweeping out a room she isn't , 

The elephant can go. A very good ivory is now made 
from bones and scraps of sheepskin. The next improve- 
ment will be the playing of the game of billiards by 
machinery. When this is done young men can stay at 
home and improve their minds. 

Just before the Texas Legislature adjourned, a phrenol- 
ogist offered to feel the members' heads for nothing, if 
they would allow him to publicly announce the result. 
They indignantly refused to submit to the public out- 
rage on the people's representatives. 

A boy was riding a mule in butler county, Missouri, 
and thought he was safe, being out of reach of the ani- 
mal's heels; but the mule jerked his head down so sud- 
denly that the boy's neck was broken. Mules are dan- 
gerous without lock, stock or barrel. 

" I like the mild spring air," said Deacon Gilpin, as he 
sat down on Squire McGill's porch floor the other morn- 
ing for a friendly chat. " How fresh it makes everything 
seem. Do you know of anything fresher than the gentle 
spring zephyr? " " No, I don't know as I does," replied 
the Squire, " unless it is that ere paint you're sitting in. 
Tain't been on the floor over two hours. ' 

Professor Jimplecute, of the University of Texas, is so 
completely absorbed in his profession that he is becoming 
more and more absent-minded every day. He remarked 
to Kosciusko Murphy, one day last week, "Something 
very stupid happened to me this morning." " What was 
it? " You see, I wanted to take my wife out in a buggy 
and give her some fresh air, and when I came to think 
it over I remembered that I never had a wife." 

On the evening of May 1st, Mark Twain was the bright, 
particular attraction at the Founder's Day Celebration at 
Vassar. With a gallantry alike equal to his humor and 
to the occasion, he remarked to the charming young 
ladies who swarmed around him that his usual price of a 
lecture was five hundred dollars, but this time he was 
satisfied with fifty cents, while he took the remaining 
four hundred and ninety-nine dollars and fifty cents in 
looking at the girls. 





At 420 Kearny street, by 
*Wm. P. Harrison. 

Subscription : $4 a year, postage paid ; single copies Ten Cents. 
Newsdealers supplied by the San Francisco News Company, sto Post St. 




The San Franciscan 7cill shortly commence the publi- 
cation of a series of original short stories by the following 
well-known American authors, viz: CHARLES Egbert 
Craddock, Elizabeth Stuart Phelps, Frank R. 
Stockton, Julian Hawthorne, Francis Hodgson 
Burnett, Richard Malcolm Johnston, Edward 
Everett Hale, Harriet Prescott Spofforo, 


Perry, Thomas Nelson Pac.e, and other famous story- 
tellers. We invite the attention of the reading public of this 
coast to the consideration of the above list of authors. Tlieir 
fame bespeaks their excellence, and the aim of The San 
Franciscan will a/ways be the best for the best. 


Fifty thousand of the youth of both sexes will, during 
the course of the next thirty days, be graduated from the 
institutions of education of the land. Mathematically 
speaking, this is a small army; and yet, without furnish 
Big any material increase to the population it ought to 
enhance its volume, since it is supposed to augment its 
intellectual strength and widen its intellectual horizon 
The larger the number of thinking minds engaged in the 
everyday life of a people, where each one tends bv indi- 
vidual brain effort to improve the capacity of all for 
wealth and happiness, the higher will that people rank in 
the order of progress and the scale of mental endowments 
But there must be thought, downright, earnest, serious 
thought, to build up a nation, or, if already grown, to 
maintain its elevation and secure still further its ascend 
ancy. Whether the new graduates of this year will add 
to the growth of the country and its upward march in all 
that is noble and progressive, depends upon themselves 
and the aims to which they turn the education they have 

For a long time to come not very much will be expected 
of them, and in their regard most people will be consid- 
erate, and even to their mistakes will accord a generous 
pardon. For some time to come the mantle of youth 
will protect and their inexperience will save them. But, 
their probationary season over, the world will expect of 
them to have profited, not only by its own leniency in 
their behalf, but also by the very mistakes they made, and 
the opportunities an indulgent public furnishes to study 
improved methods — methods perhaps at variance with 
the graduates' school training, but yet, as the saying is, 
this world's way of going through life. 

One thing the young graduates must remember: They 
are, it is true, no longer under school surveillance, and 
yet they must be subject to discipline, be guided in life 
by it ; and though the world rings no bell to mark its hours 
of going and coming, its entrances or its exits, withal, 
it is a task master severe and unrelaxing, and supposes 
wonderful self-control and constant self-possession in its 
votaries. If the graduate has much to learn, he may be 
said, also, to have much to unlearn. Of an overdose of 
sentiment; too great confidence in his own abilities; a 
reckless conceit that his education fits him for any posi- 
tion ; assumed belief that his eminence in the class-room 
warrants his superiority against the experience of an out- 
sider — of all these notions, the quicker he rids himself 
the better. 

On the other, hand, he must not at once put all his 
school ideas aside. Sentiment, in its proper place, he 
will find much use for, and when guided by reason, it will 
go far to make the world much better to him, and more 
tolerable to bear, with all its disappointments. A knowl- 
edge of one's own powers, especially in this age of boast- 
fulness and superficiality, and a limited but energetic dis- 
play of the same on occasions, the graduate will find not 
only useful, but at times even necessary. Education, the 
young man or the young woman leaving school will find 
to be an excellent thing, but the education gleaned from 
books and masters, it may be well to remember, is never 
equal to that which is acquired by extensive observation, 

by travel, by after development among men, by compari- 
son—in one word, in a hundred ways unknown on gradu- 
ating day. 

One thing let the graduate arm himself with, viz., 
courage. He will need a large supply of it, especially at 
the beginning of his career. The first difficulties mas- 
tered, he will be able to support heavier burdens and 
overcome greater obstacles. The morning of his day- 
may bring weariness. He must not succumb. The noon 
will arrive, and with it refreshment; and when he sits 
down at evening tide, his courage still lasting and his 
victory gained, the rest he has purchased will be, not the 
sleep of the sluggard, but the repose of the generous com- 
batant and the skillful captain, who have fought bravely, 
achieved something, and deserved well of their fellow- 
men. The graduating classes of '85 have no doubt all 
had a motto. The San Franciscan honors their selection 
in every case. Whilst welcoming the graduates of this 
coast to the battle of life, it proposes to them an emi- 
nent American motto, the remembrance of which, at the 
outset of their career, when many difficulties seem im- 
pending, will console them. When danger is at hand, or 
they stand irresolute to act, let them think of him to 
whom it was said : 

" Try not the pass 

Dark lowers the tempest overhead; 
, The roaring torrent is deep and wide! " 

And loud that clarion voice replied, 
" Excelsior!" 


Judge Wallace's letter to the President declining the 
Chinese Mission (when he found he could not get it), 
upon the ground that the appointment of a Califomian 
would be obnoxious to the Chinese government, has 
been universally condemned by the daily press, not only 
as a "give away" of the wishes, desires and interests of 
the people of this coast, but as an exceedingly transparent 
means of destroying his opponent, Frank McCoppin, who 
aspired to the same position. But now comes the verita- 
ble Frank McCoppin himself with a similar letter of de- 
clination (which he claims the doubtful honor of having 
written before Judge Wallace wrote his), based upon the 
same ground, in which he says that the appointment of 
any Californian would necessarily " prove offensive to the 
Chinese government, and cause friction between the two 
nations." These two letters are a good illustration of the 
penchant Democratic politicians have for committing 
political blunders. If there ever was a weak, wishy- 
washy, unworthy jK>licy announced on earth, it is 
embodied in the two letters in question. Mr. McCoppin 
says that " no Californian can leave his state as Minister 
to China unless he steals out of it without first expressing 
in some public manner his views in regard to the Restric- 
tion act. He would be expected to say distinctly that he 
favors its retention upon the statute-books of this nation, 
and its honest enforcement by the constituted authori- 
ties." Well, what of it? Who passed the Restriction 
act? Was it the people of California, or the Congress of 
the United States? Do we want to send a Minister to 
China who does not favor the Restriction act, and who 
would tell the government of China, when he got there, 
that it was passed "merely to appease the' barbarians 
of California," and that he hoped it would soon be re- 
pealed? or, is he to go there to uphold and support the 
constitution of the United States and the laws and treaties 
thereof? What are these Democratic statesmen thinking 
about? If a Californian who knows the evils of Chinese 
immigration is appointed to the Chinese Mission, how 
much greater insult to the Chinese government would it be 
than was the passage by Congress of the Chinese Exclu- 
sion act? What attitude do we expect our Chinese Min- 
ister to assume before the Chinese government? It is 
disgusting, absolutely disgusting, to hear this silly talk about 
"offending the Chinese government." Oh for a little 
backbone in our foreign policy, to deal with the Chinese 
people as inferiors instead of as equals! We have already 
insulted them by saying to them, " We don't want you to 
come heie! You are an inferior people, unfit to mix and 
mingle with us ! You degrade labor; you have no con- 
ception of our republican government; you are ignorant, 
unteachable coolies, who contaminate us by your pres- 
ence. We therefore command you to stay away, and we 
prohibit you from coming among us, upon penalty of be- 
ing caught and sent back to your country, unless you 
come with a duly authenticated pass." Then we turn 
around and send some fellow as our representative to the 
Chinese government who says this is all a lie — a mere 
senseless California lie. If this government wants to be 
honest, it will send a gentleman from California as Min- 
ister to China. A gentleman is never "offensive." A 

gentleman will never make himself obnoxious, even 
while he maintains his principles. Was Bismarck insult- 
ed by the appointment of Pendleton as Minister to Ger- 
many, because, forsooth, he was from Cincinnati, the 
metropolis of the "American hog"? And yet while our 
commercial relations with China are nearer than those of 
any other state of the Union, it is thought wise to send a 
sentimental stranger from a part of the country that has 
had no connection with the Flowery Kingdom. Can 
Democratic national policy degrade itself further? 


Ripe with years, crowned with the honors of the most 
progressive age amid the centuries, and at peace with all 
the world, the author and master of modern French liter- 
ature has sunk to rest on the banks of the Seine, in Paris, 
in the very heart of the people he loved. 

Victor Hugo is dead ! France mourns this time not a 
fallen monarch or a decayed empire, but one who repre- 
sented more than both at their best, since, with only his 
pen for a scepter, he reigned an uncrowned king in the 
hearts of millions, for whose sake he governed in love and 
solicitude from the silent pages of his matchless works. 
The world mourns a friend and a benefactor, for the soul 
of Victor Hugo was limited to no country or creed or 
nationality. His religion was as catholic as the universe, 
his humanity as extensive as the race, and he labored to 
make men better, their aspirations higher, their aims 
loftier, their ambitions less selfish, and their ends purer 
and more godlike. If he did not succeed, the fault was 
not his and must not be ascribed to his teaching, for 
that was sincere, earnest, and always deserved the follow- 
ing of the best. 

The world has read Victor Hugo, and not, as in the case 
of many authors, merely of him. It has read him because 
he was identified with the best side of human nature. It 
came to know him as generous and brave, as a friend of 
the people, an outspoken advocate of the weak and the 
oppressed, and an enemy and a scourge of tyrants. Hu- 
man nature, like water, is sure to find a level, and in no 
case is it better illustrated than in what an author writes 
for the masses. By what he writes they judge him. His 
sentiments mirror theirs or they do not. In the one case 
they adopt him and cling to him, in the other they dis- 
own and reject him. He is not one with nor of them. 
Victor Hugo became almost at a bound the idol of the 
French people, and may be said to have remained so to 
the end. 

The founder of the Romantic school par excellence, 
Victor Hugo had able assistance from such brilliant 
lieutenants as Thierry and Michelet, Balzac and Georges 
Sand, from Musset, Lamartine and Gautier, in building 
up the new era, or the renaissance of French literature in 
the nineteenth century. In vain did the Classicists rave 
and inveigh against the new order of things; in vain do 
they cry out to-day. The people still read Ifemani and 
Marion Delorme, Ruy Bias and f.e Roi S 'Amuse. The 
magnificent coloring of Tlie Orientals, the brilliant 
imagery, the harmony, the sparkle of its pages, the love 
of country and liberty breathing throughout every line in 
this admirable work, will insure its life as long as printed 
language is bequeathed from generation to generation. 
Twilight Songs, Inner Voices, Autumn Leaves, may outlive 
Notre Dame de Paris, Les Afiserabies, and many more of 
the author's works, for they come nearer to the popular 
heart, and touch a chord in the souls of most men. 

Victor Hugo is dead! A Royalist almost, but never an 
Imperialist ; a Liberal, a Republican, an Academician — a 
man of many titles, and apparently many inconsistencies — 
he was nevertheless in reality consistent, for he always 
loved truth, and was a friend to the best interests of suf- 
fering humanity. His vision of things may not always 
have been the same. Whose is? But Victor Hugo's aim 
was truth — once, always, and forever. He loved liberty. 
He became an exile for its sake. He loved the people. 
They made him their idol. France may mourn her dead 
son. A tribute to mortality — his country embalms his 
remains. A tribute to his heart and mind — mankind 
embalms his memory and proclaims him immortal. 


No more impressive spectacle has ever been witnessed 
in California than that we have seen in San Francisco 
during the past week — the voluntary laying down of the 
miter by an Archbishop, and his retirement to the seclu- 
sion of a monastery. The self-abnegation involved in 
such a surrender of high ecclesiastical authority for the 
humble life of a Dominican monk, is beyond the compre- 
hension of ordinary mortals. It belongs to a heroic age. 



The deeding to his successor of the vast aggregation of 
property, amounting to many millions of dollars in 
value, which he so long held in faithful trust for the 
Catholic church, and his grateful acceptance of the beg- 
garly few hundred dollars to pay his expenses back to the 
land of his youth, where he may renew the vows and 
burdens of his order, seems like the act of some apos- 
tle of the olden time. It does not belong to this 
age of selfishness. Turning his back upon life-long 
friends, parishioners and co-workers, to whom he had 
become endeared by participation in the religious 
work of a lifetime, and going away to spend the re- 
mainder of his days in prayer and contemplation among 
strangers, as if, forsooth, he whose life was a continued 
example of piety, needed to prepare for eternity, is in- 
deed the act of a religious enthusiast. In our shallow, 
worldly way, we are accustomed to think that the fitting 
close of a life so noble and useful and full of self-sacri- 
fice, should be the retirement from active labor, among 
friends with whom he had lived, for whom he had 
labored, and from whom he might receive the love, care 
and affectionate tenderness due to old age. But here is 
a type of heroism that insists upon teaching us a great 
lesson of piety and self-sacrifice, by saying to us, " I am 
naught but a frail human being. If I remain among you 
to receive your honors and your adulations, I shall for- 
get that I am but a humble disciple, and shall learn to 
value the comforts and luxuries of life. It is best that I 
go back to the simple order from whence I came, and to 
which I have given my vows, that I may continue to the 
end in lowly submission to the will of the Great Master." 

Such is the fealty of the great religious orders of the 
Roman Catholic church No degree of sacrifice, no 
aggregation of virtues, and no amount of success, 
can exempt its members from the obligations and hard- 
ships of a life of religious devotion and asceticism. It 
is a grand triumph of Romanism that it possesses such 
adherents. Our modern world has furnished few exam- 
ples of self-abnegation equal to that of the retirement of 
Archbishop Alemany. The blessings and prayers of the 
Catholic people of this state, and the kind wishes of us 
all, go with him. The three hundred people who instinct- 
ively fell upon their knees to receive his blessing, as the 
train upon which he took his departure passed Sixteenth 
street station, Oakland, yielded a graceful and beautiful 
homage to a man whose religious devotion is so thor- 
oughly apostolic. 


It is related in one of Plutarch's charming stories, in 
reference to a little Greek republic in the days of pure 
democracy, that when a member proposed a new law in 
the assembly of the people, he stood forward with a 
halter round his neck. This was the pledge of his own 
life, to be declared forfeited if any injury should accrue 
to the people from the law proposed, and doubtless 
proved an effective and salutary restraint in special and 
personal legislation. It may be presumed that the chief 
danger to public morals and to public finance in those 
days arose from such legislation, for we do not find any 
safeguards or penalties attached to other departments of 
the body politic. 

It is a pity such a cood custom as Plutarch mentions 
should not have survived to quicken the sense of personal 
responsibility among public men generally in modern 
times. What a healthy significance would a rope 
pendant, in heraldic phrase, present in the doorway of 
our various public offices? The suggestion of a sus per 
^//through the agency of public opinion, taking the direc- 
tion of vigorous personal supervision, would be likely to 
induce, if not enforce, a higher ajid more honest spirit 
into our republican institutions; and as in active mili- 
tary and naval service the sense of bodily harm is quickly 
overpowered by the ardor of emulation and hope of 
glory, so would the yearnings of greed and peculation, 
traditional and chronic among office holders, be soon 
uprooted by the influence of fixed personal responsibility. 
We may not, perhaps, under such a regime, develop an 
Aristides or a Cato, but we could certainly keep our- 
selves free from the plagues of Star route robbers, faith- 
less Railroad Commissioners, and other betrayers of 
public trust in smaller grades of villainy. It would have 
crushed out Tweedism, and it would now crush out 

"And break the bandit hordes, and cleanse the land." 


The supervisors are still struggling with the water prob- 
lem. The result of their referring the question of the. 

cost and value of the Spring Valley property to the com- 
mittee has been, as we all expected, a majority and a minor- 
ity report. The majority report is long, labored and 
technical in pointing out the over-estimates in Allardt's 
statement, but singularly lacking in definite detail infor- 
mation as to their own valuation. They are charged by 
the minority with insisting upon a narrow construction of 
the committee's duties, claiming that its province was sim- 
ply to show that Allardt's estimate was erroneous, instead 
of calling for specific original detail information from the 
Spring Valley Company as well. It is further charged 
in the minority report that the representatives of the 
Water Company (or such of them as were not members 
of the committee) failed, neglected and refused to come 
before the committee to be cross-examined with reference 
to the main facts of Allardt's estimates, and fought shy of 
the committee in every way. Thus does this most dis- 
graceful and demoralizing fight go on from week to week 
and month to month, without result. Who is to blame 
for it? The truth lies somewhere; if not in Allardt's es- 
timate, not very far away. Yet the minority do not insist 
upon Allardt's original figures, nor even upon his revised 
figures. They arc willing to allow the Water Com- 
pany over ten per cent upon its own estimate. But that 
most unreasonable and grasping'monopoly refuses to yield. 
The result will be (just as in all their former fights) that 
they will be forced to more abject measures in the end 
than they would have been asked to agree to if they had 
gracefully yielded in the first instance. 



The Louisville Courier- Journal has discovered that 
"American humorists come by accident," and instances 
the cases of M. Quad, of Detroit, and Genie Field, of 
Chicago, whose humor was respectively the result of a 
steamboat explosion and of a fall from a three-story win- 
dow. Such facts are comparatively useless unless suggest- 
ive. Why would it not be well to collect the "alleged 
humorists " in batches convenient for handling, and dump 
them out of a third-story window over a reliable freestone 
pavement? The survivors, if any, would be able to amuse 
a too serious constituency, and for the others — decorum 
est pro pa/ria mori. Perhaps a steamer loaded with dyna- 
mite would be, on the whole, more economical, as saving 
funeral expenses. By utilizing one of our naval vessels 
it would be as cheap a way as any to break it up before 
selling for old iron — the only way in which it seems possi- 
ble to make our fleet of any service to the country. Let 
us have humorists on the Darwinian principle of selec- 
tion — the survival of the fittest. 

Is it not enough that this doomed country should be 
exposed to the ravages of the insidious phylloxera and the 
land-grabbing locust; that the grasshopper has " hopped 
on to " our wheat fields and the army-worm encamped 
outside of our vegetables? But now the newspapers are 
threatening an incursion of a fresh army of devastation in 
a solid phalanx of twenty-five editors from Mexico, who 
are about to sweep over the length and breadth of our 
land. Verily the scripture is about to be fulfilled, "And 
there was a famine in the land in those days." 

A Portland paper is responsible for this item : 

A halibut was caught in Scow bay by an Indian weighing 202 

That was, indeed, a pretty solid Indian; but what has 
the halibut to do with it? 

And this is from one of our own city papers: 

The party only succeeded in killing one woodchuck. How- 
ever, they made a large number of sketches. 

Prom a careful perusal of the foregoing we are led to 
conclude that the sketches were not a success. Perhaps, 
however, it was only the paragrapher. It is a good plan 
to keep moving your " modifying element " about until 
you get it where it will do the most good. 

Had the writer of the following item adhered more 
closely to this simple rule, the Sacramento police might 
have been saved from possibly undeserved reproach : 

Two men were captured in Sacramento on Friday by the po- 
lice who were endeavoring to sell some watches to a pawn- 

There may be some little ambiguity in this, but as it 
reads it looks a little shady for the police. 

In fact, we cannot read a column of news items with- 
out being convinced that there are still many representa- 
tives of that celebrated western preacher who startled 
his. hearers by the astounding information, "Just five 
years ago I was riding over your pleasant prairies with 
my dear wife who has since died and gone to heaven in 
a buggy." 

The newspapers are constantly putting on record the 
very healthy appearance of Mr. James G. Blaine. This 
is cheering; and it may also be observed that nearly all 

Mr. Blaine's political friends are just now able to be 

There is much excitement in New York over the ab- 
duction and possible murder of two nephews of a priest. 
I There is something touching in the frantic grief of the 
Reverend Father over the loss of his nephews. It calls 
to mind the somewhat noteworthy fact that there seems 
to be often an unusually tender tie between a celibate 
priest and his " nephews." Perhaps this is owing to the 
fact that the latter are so frequently orphans. 

The customs officials in New York seem to have mis- 
taken their dutiej for those of a sumptuary bureau. They 
are determining the amount of clothing, finery and jewels 
that form a " reasonable " personal outfit according to the 
"station of life" of the owner. It seems that $40,000 
worth of laces, silks and diamonds constitute a " reason- 
able " amount of traveling luggage for Miss Astor, while 
j a poor woman who so far forgot her humble " station " as 
1 to bring over a doll for her grandchild, and flannel enough 
for two petticoats, had her unreasonable outfit confiscated. 
The poor will learn after a few more lessons that such 
j unsuitable luxuries as dolls and flannel petticoats should 
be left to their betters. Beside, the affair involved the 
waste of enough " red tape" to bind a dozen petticoats. 
Our haughty officocrats have resolved that class distinc- 
tions must and shall be preserved. 

It seems to be a matter of chronic surprise with news- 
paper reporters that anything in the social world should be 
done "^quietly," and they invariably put it on record. 
" Mr. Smith and Miss Jones were quietly married " — as 
if it were customary for bride and groom to move on the 
hymeneal altar beating tom-toms, smashing crockery, 
or dancing a minstrel jig, as they advance. 

These same chroniclers call on some celebrity, and the 
next morning we read, "A little lady entered quietly " — 
the recital seeming to intimate that the genial reporter 
expected the lady to come in turning a handspring, or 
dancing a fandango with castanet accompaniment, or 
that she wore a cow-bell or a train of fire-crackers. To 
the mind untutored in rcportorial lore it might seem 
quite natural that a lady should enter a room quietly. 

But the very latest and greatest surprise is to learn that 
a recent corpse was "buried quietly" from St. Sexton's 
Church, last Sunday morning. If the conscientious re- 
porter had said nothing about it, the plain, ordinary 
reader might have taken the quietness for granted. How- 
ever, as this absence of noisy jubilation or protest on th» 
part of the quiet individual who was getting buried is so 
carefully noted, one can only conclude that it is the 
exception and not the rule ; and that noisy and disorderly 
corpses are so common as not to merit mention. 

A ship which lately landed on our shores brought hither 
one of the greatest modern wonders of the world. It was 
not the Bartholdi statue, nor Senator Sharon's donation 
to the pedestal fund, nor yet a federal appointment for 
one of Buckley's pets. It was nothing of so stupen- 
dous or startling a nature. It came on the Zealandia 
from Australia, and its name is Edward Hanlan, sur- 
named the oarsman. The circumstance that renders him 
a wonder is not any of the rowing matches he has won, 
but the one which he didn't win. A man who has lost a 
race or a glove-fight or a contest of any kind, and says 
that fie was beaten at his best because the winner was " a 
better man," is something so out of the common that 
in an earlier and more excitable age he would have 
run a great risk of being stoned to death or made to 
recant, or something. In our day he is likely to be 
accounted "a little off." Even in a friendly game of 
chess or whist the defeated party can always tell you just 
"the play that beat him"; and, mind you, it is always 
his play that does it. One might imagine his adversary a 
lay figure or a dummy for all the part he had in the busi- 
ness. Not so Mr. Hanlan. He says he " rowed faster 
and stronger than ever before," and was " beaten from the 
start." The reason assigned is that Beach is "the best 
man in the world." I have never gone down to the ferry 
to meet a prize-fighter; I flee from the lions of civilization 
as I would from those of an African jungle. I have met 
heroes, generals, presidents, divas and divers, without 
feeling any stronger desire to shake their hands than they to 
take mine; but if Mr. Hanlan wants to shake hands with 
me, I am ready. If he doesn't spoil it all by going to 
work to explain how it all happened, and where he " made 
a mismove," he will remain my favorite hero to the end 
of time. 

An eastern paper says, "A strange disease, baffling the 
skill of physicians," etc. It would be a " strange disease " 
if it didn't. 

A lady in Naugatuck happened to knock the family 
Bible off a high shelf, and out fluttered an old Colonial 
six-pound note dated 1728. Those oldlast century Nau- 
gatuckers knew where to hide things. They never hid 
any bank-notes in a volume of the Seaside Library, rest 

Lucky Baldwin's devotion to the raising and training of 
fast stock is now explained. If young women continue 
to get after him the way they have been doing of late, re- 
l lays of flyers will come very handy. 




"Have ye anny bones, Mrs. Doolan?" said Mickey 
Finn, fingering his rimless hat. 

" Bones, is it, Mickey; mebby it's fish bones yer 
wantin'?" was the reply. 

"Av ye plaze, ma'am, it's mate bones. I do be wantin' 
to sell thim, so I can buy some tin-cint shootin' crackers." 

A few minutes later Mickey ran out to the wagon with 
a hatful of assorted bones, a portion of which had done 
duty in the shank of a Texas steer, and later had assisted 
the survival of several Doolans, big and little. The 
wagon into which Mickey dumped the bones was evi- 
dently intended more for use than ornament. It was 
drawn by two goats, driven tandem. T4ie leader was a 
patriarchal billy, with a lurking devil in his eyes, and a 
long gray beard, which Mickey celebrated occasionally in 
a verse of that descriptive song: 

Time wuz a goat in our back yard, 

He wuz wan o' thim gay old friskers, % 

An' whin he hiked up at the moon, 
Th' wind Mowed through his whiskers — 

The last line is an attempt to give vocal expression to 
the sound made by the wind as it blew through the 

The weak-looking nanny between the shafts uttered a 
plaintive protest as the awkward shafts gave her an occa- 
sional dig in the ribs. Various attempts by the boys to 
catch on behind were frustrated by Mickey's partner in 
the bone business, Jack Doolan, and the wagon wabbled 
merrily along until Pasty Coogan's dog attacked the billy 
goat. The mad rushes of the goat kept Mickey in con- 
stant fear lest he should not maintain his equilibrium. 
Finally the dog was tired out, and the wagon wabbled 
across the bridge which separates Cooney Island from 
the railroad track and Giant's saloon. The journey to 
the junk store progressed -uninterruptedly now, except 
that the billy, whose blood was up, snowed a very unrea- 
sonable inclination to rear, war-horse fashion, to the dis- 
comfiture of the driver and the rope harness. At last the 
load of bones was borne safely to the junk store, and dis- 
posed of for a silver half-dollar. 

What possibilities of unutterable happiness lay in that 
coin can only be adequately conceived by a boy of ten. 

The fine ten-cent " shootin' crackers ' looked to the 
sparkling eyes of the boys, as they stood on the store- 
keeper's showcase, like a file of British soldiers on dress 

A wide beam of warning light shot out of Rondout 
lighthouse upon the Hudson river. Black shadows stole 
up the rugged heart of Snake Hill, Rondout's barome- 
ter. Along the dusty Point road a sheep bell tinkled, 
and Michael Finn, Sr., entered his shanty and set his 
'dinner-pail behind the stove. 

After supper the parental Finns had a discussion as to 
the means of obtaining funds by which the longed-for 
shooting-crackers could be procured for Mickey. There 
were sundry incidental expenses to be met, which were 
duly recorded on the leaves of Mrs. Finn's memory, and 
the margin for shooting-crackers assumed very small pro- 
portions as she read them off to her husband. 

" There's four dollars at Brady's for groceries, an' thirty 
shillin's yer owin' him since last winther. Four an' wan 
are five, an' two are sivin— sivinty-five ; that's $7 75. An' 
the b'y's shoes— faix he'll not go to mass wid the toes stick- 
in' out o' him — that's tin shillin's more, aisy ; ye'll not git 
thim wan cint less. An' there's grains for the pig — that's 
two shillin'; an' backy for yerself. Ah, what's the use in 
talkin'! ye'll have no money for shootin' crackers." 

The chairman of the ways and means committee looked 
sorrowfully into the bright fire. He had about concluded 
that life is but a fleeting show, when the door of the shanty 
opened and admitted the stout form of Mrs. Murphy. 
There was an air of importance about Mrs. Murphy. 
She carried a mysterious parcel under her shawl, and 
awakened the curiosity of the Finns by the care with 
which she kept it concealed. Even when she accepted 
the pipe which Mike gave her she covered the parcel 
deftly with her shawl, and laid them both upon the table. 

" Phat have ye thay-er?" said Mrs. Finn. 

"That's somethin' that wuz on my Roger, an' it aitin' 
a hole in him ! Ye see, it's like this : Roger kem home, 
a week last Thuesday, wid pains in his chist and under 
his arrums. I sez to him, sez I, ' Ye have a bad cowld.' 
So I got him a big drink o' hot rum, thinkin' he'd be all 
right in the mornin'; but, mind ye, the nixt day he wuz 
worse and all swelt up like a barrel. Av coorse we called in 
the docther — it's mighty little money we have fur docthers, 
though, the canallin' wuz so poor last summer, an' Roger 
kep' gettin' worse an' worse, fur all he cud do. Well, 
Roger thought he wuz goin' to die, an' the praist came to 
see nim an' fixed him all up. Roger said he forgev ivery 
sin that wuz iver done to him by mortal man. Divil a 
kinder-hearted man than my Roger iver lived ; yerself 
knows that, Mike. Ye'll mind the time Paddy Coogan 
hit him last summer. Whin Roger wuz pullin' off his 
calico shirt to fight him, Coogan said he cudn't help hit- 
tin' him, bekase the nose wid the shirt stritched tight over 
it made sich a purty mark. Well, Roger sint fur Coogan 
whin he got well of the blow, an' they shuk hands. An' 
then the dear man laid there at home, now, d'ye mind, 
an' talked so purty about heaven. ' Mary, dear,' sez he, 
' I'm thinkin' there'll be no shovelin' coal up there.' 

"Th' docther said Roger wud die whin th' clock 
struck twilve; so what does my by Paddy do but go an' 
git another docther. He kem to see Roger at siven 
o'clock last night. He looked at him in th' bed, an' 
thin he made him git up and set on a chair. ' Does that 
hurt? ' sez he, givin' Roger a dig in th' chist. ' No,' sez 
Roger. Thin he gev him another poke in th' chist, only 
a little lower down, an' Roger squaled wid pain. Meself 
and Paddy wint out in th' hall wid th' docther. Whin he 
h,ad the dure shut tight, sez he : ' The ould man has jist 
five hours to live. He has wather on his chist, an' its 
risin' higher an' higher; an' whin it r'aches th' top o' his 

lungs over it'll go like wather over a mill-dam, an' dhrown 


" ' Wirra, wirra, docther dear, can ye do annything t' 
save him? ' sez Paddy. 

" ' Well,' sez th' docther, « the stuff I'll use on him '11 
ayther kill him or cure him.' 

" We tho't bechune us two, Paddy and myself, that if 
Roger had to die annyhow, we might as well let the doc- 
ther thry if he could do annything fur him. What does 
the docther do but he goes down t' McNulty's drug 
shtore, fornist the post-office — an', mind ye, he's an illi- 
gent docther himseF, is that same McNulty — an' he kem 
back in a little while an' tuk Roger out o' th bed where he 
wuz layin' fur two blessed weeks, an' sets him. in a chair, 
an' ties him fast wid a rope, an' fastens his hands to a lit- 
tle bame behint his back, like this [Mrs. Murphy spread 
her arms at right angles to her body]. Thin he takes an' 
spreads something on his breast. 

"An' then, what d'ye think he done? Ah, thim doc- 
thers is divils, so they are. Whin he was going out o' th' 
dure he turns around and sez he : 'If he begins t' holler, 
we'll save him ; but if he's quiet ye may bid him good- 

Here Mrs. Murphy knocked her pipe out on the stone, 
and remarked incidentally that smoking always made her 
dry. Mr. Finn politely took no apparent notice of the 
remark; but when Mrs. Murphy was looking another 
way he indicated to his wife by a wink and a jerk of the 
thumb that there was something in the closet that would 
quench Mrs. Murphy's thirst. Mrs. Murphy resumed 
her story between sips of a very appetizing liquid : 

"Half an hour after th' stuff wuz put on his breast, 
Roger began t' get onaisy. He squirmed around on th' 
chair. Whin wan hour wuz gone ye c'ud hear him in 
Shanty Holler. He was shoutin', an' cursin', an' prayin', 
an' beggin' me t' take th' horrible thing off him. Arrah, 
Mr. Finn, if ye cu'd see th' poor man, wid tears streamin' 
down his face, an' him callin' on th' saints t' help him ! 
Th' naybors thought we had a murther. Whin I cudn't 
shtand it no longer, I went down t' McNulty's ; ses I : 

" 1 McNulty, phat's that yer afther givin' th' docther 
fur my Roger?' 

" ' Well, sez McNulty, very quiet, ' I'm afther sellin' 
th' docther a plasther for a harse's leg.' 

" ' Harse's leg? Howly Moses! he has it on my oult 
man ! ' 

"'May th' divil fly away wid th' murtherin' villain. 
Shure that's a Spanish plasther, an' it'll ate a hole thro' 
railroad iron.' 

" I starts fur th' docther's house. What wuz he doin', 
d'ye think, whin I got there? His wife wuz playin' on th' 
pianny an' he wuz singin'. He tuk me intil th' illegint 
parlor, an' sez he: 'Sit down, Mrs. Murphy,' sez he, 
'till I sing ye " McCarthy's Mare!"' mind ye, Biddy, 
an' my Roger dyin' beyant th' hill! 

" Mike, I cud run like a deer goin' back ; but th' doc- 
ther walked along mighty aisy an' wint th' longest way. 
We stopped at McNulty's t' get some more medicine for 
Roger. Th' docther went behint th' little curtain where 
thim drug fellers mix dhrinks. I heerd him talkin' an' 
laffin' wid McNulty till I cud sthand it no longer. 

" ' Cud ye tell McNulty th' rest o' th' story to-morrer?' 
sez I ; ' I'd like t' see Roger wanst more alive.' 

" Ye know , Mike, Roger is a big man. He's fifty 
inches round th' chist, an' he cud break a tree across his 
knee. We heerd him yellin' a quarther iv a mile away, 
an' th' sthreet wuz filled wid people whin we got there. 
W hin we kem in there he wuz, wid his face as red as an 
auction flag, an' him prayin' fur a knife t' put him out iv 
misery. Th docther put ivery wan out o' th' room but 
himself an' Roger an' " 

" Phat did he do? " interrupted Mrs. Finn. 

" I dunno what's this he done, but whin I kem in there 
wuz Roger, quiet and p'aceful, wid the wather gone off 
his chist. The docther handed me this bundle," and 
Mrs. Murphy picked up the mysterious parcel and began 
to unroll it, "an' sez, ' Mrs. Murphy, preserve this, fur it 
saved yer hus ' " 

Mrs. Murphy's story was cut short by a tremendous 
explosion in the back yard, and five two-quart tomato 
cans came down upon the roof of the shanty with a 
startling rattle. While the two women stood trembling 
with fear, Mike opened the door and caught a glimpse 
of two youthful forms outlined against the horizon as they 
disappeared over the hill. 

" Biddy," said he. 

" Yis, Mike." 

" Mickey has th' shootin' crackers."— New York Sun. 



Last night I stole away alone, to find 

A mellow crescent sitting o'er the iea, 

And lingered in its light, while over me 
Blew fitfully the grieving autumn wind. 

And somewhat sadly to myself I said, 
" Summer is gone," and watched how bright and fast 
Through the moon's track the little waves sped past. 

" Summer is gone; her golden days are dead." 

Regretfully I thought, " Since I have trod 
Earth's way with willing or reluctant feet, 
Never did season bring me days more sweet, 

Crowned with rare joys and priceless gifts from God. 

"And they are gone; they will return no more." 

The slender moon went down, all red and still; 

The stars shone clear, the silent dews fell chill; 
The waves with ceaseless murmur washed the shore. 

A low voice spake: "And wherefore art thou sad? 
Here in thy heart, all folded, summer lies 
And smiles in sunshine, though the sweet time dies; 

'Tis thine, to keep forever fresh and glad! " 

Yea, gentle voice, though the fair days depart, 
And skies grow cold above the restless sea, 
God's gifts are measureless,' and there shall be 

Eternal summer in the grateful heart. Cclia Thaxler. 

Amateurs who go fishing are generally honest, 
seldom hook any fish. 


It may be premature, perhaps, but I desire to suggest 
to any one who may be contemplating the erection of a 
summer residence for me, as a slight testimonial of his 
high regard for my sterling worth and symmetrical 
escutcheon — a testimonial more suggestive of earnest ad- 
miration and warm personal friendship than of great in- 
trinsic value, etc. — that I hope he will not construct it on 
the modern plan of mental hallucination and morbid 
delirium tremens peculiar to recent architecture. 

Of course, a man ought not to look a gift house in the 
gable end, but if my friends don't know me any better 
than to build me a summer cottage and throw in odd 
windows that nobody else wanted, and then daub it up 
with colors that they have bought at auction and applied 
to the house after dark with a shotgun, I thing it is time 
that we had a better understanding. 

Such a structure does not come within either of the 
three classes of renaissance. It is neither Florentine, 
Roman nor Venitian. Any man can originate such a 
style of architecture if he will drink the right kind of 
whisky long enough, and then describe his feelings to an 
amanuensis. Imagine the sensation that one of these 
modern sawed-off cottages would create a hundred years 
from now, if it should survive! But that is impossible. 
The only cheering feature of the whole matter is that 
these creatures of a disordered imagination must soon 
pass away, and the bright sunlight of hard horse sense 
shine in through the shattered dormers and gables and 
gnawed-ofT architecture of the average summer resort. 
A friend of mine a few days ago snowed me his new 
house with much pride. He asked me what 1 thought of 
it. I told him I liked it first-rate. Then I went home 
and wept all night. It was my first falsehood. 

The house, taken as a whole, looked to me like a 
skating rink that had started out to make money, and then 
suddenly changed its mind and resolved to become a tan- 
nery. Then ten feet higher it had lost all self-respect, 
and blossomed into a full-blown drunk and disorderly, 
surrounded by the smokestack of a foundry, and with the 
bright future of thirty days ahead with the chain gang. 
That's the way it looked to me. 

The roofs were made of little odds and ends of misfit 
rafters and distorted shingles that somebody had pur- 
chased at sheriffs sale, and the rooms and stairs were 
giddy in the extreme. I went in and rambled around 
among the cross-eyed staircases and other nightmares till 
reason tottered on her throne. Then I came out and 
stood on the architectural wart called the side porch, to 
get fresh air. This porch was painted a dull red, and it 
had wooden rosettes at the corner that looked like a brand- 
new carbuncle on the nose of a social wreck. Further 
up on the demoralized lumber pile I saw, now and then, 
places were the workman's mind had wandered, and he 
had nailed on his clapboards wrong side up, and then 
painted them with the Paris green that he had intended 
to use on something else. It was an old-looking structure, 
indeed. If my friend got all the material for nothing, 
from people who have fragments of paint and lumber left 
over after they failed, and then if the workmen con- 
structed it nights for mental relaxation and intellectual 
repose, without charge, of course, the scheme was a 
financial success, but architecturally the house is a gross 
violation of the statutes in such cases made and provided, 
and against the peace and dignity of the state. 

There is a look of extreme poverty about the structure, 
which a man might struggle for years to acquire, and then 
fail. No one could look upon it without feeling a heart- 
ache for the man who built that house, and probably 
struggled on year after year, building a little of it at a 
time as he could steal the lumber, getting a new work- 
man each year, building a knob here and a protuberance 
there, putting in a three-cornered window at one point 
and a yellow tile or wad of debris at another, pa- 
tiently filling in around the ranch with any old rubbish 
that other people had got through with, and painting it as 
he went along, taking what was left in the botton of the 
pots after his neighbors had painted their bob-sleds or 
their rent-boxes — little favors thankfully received — and 
then surmounting the whole pile with a potpourri of roof 
— a grand farewell incubus of humps and hollows for the 
rain to wander through and seek out the different cells 
where live the lunatics who inhabit it. 

I did tell my friend of one thing that I thought 
would improve the looks of the house. He asked me 
eagerly what it could be. I said it would take a man of 
great courage to do it for him. He said he didn't care for 
that ; he would do it himself. If it only needed one thing, 
he would never rest till he had it, whatever that might 
be. Then I told him that if he had a friend — one he 
could trust — who would steal in there some night when 
the family were away, and scratch a match on the leg of 
his breeches, or on the breeches of any other gentleman 
who happened to be present, and hold it where it would ig- 
nite the alleged house, and then remain near to see that the 
fire department did not meddle with it, he would confer 
a great favor on one who would cheerfully retaliate in 
kind, on call. 

As a large part of a nation's wealth arises from the work 
done by the population, it is lamentable to think how 
great is the loss occasioned by illness — much of it pre- 
ventive. If we take the working years of life — from fif- 
teen to sixty-five— it has been calculated by very compe- 
tent authorities that the average time of sickness among 
males is a small fraction over nine days per year; for 
females, a trifle more. The result is that among males 
there is a loss of 9,692,505 weeks' work per year; among 
females, of 10,592,761 weeks' work. Thus our whole 
population between fifteen and sixty-five loses 20,000,000 
weeks by sickness per annum. Rather more than half of 
this— 11,000,000 weeks— is lost by the domestic, agricult- 
ural and industrial classes. — Tidbit. 

Every man has his follies, and ofttimes they are the 
most interesting things he has got. 



The recent interest in Russia as a possible antagonist 
of great Britain in a struggle for power in Asia, has dis- 
closed the fact that the general public are curiously ill- 
informed in regard to the great Slav nation. Notwith- 
standing the publication a few years ago of Mackenzie 
Wallace's masterly work upon Russia, written after years 
of residence and careful observation, many people have 
the idea that the Russians are a vast semi-barbarous na- 
tion, ground down into an abject condition by a cruel 
despotism ; that in a war with England the Czar would 
have to drive his subjects to the field, and that his gov- 
ernment would soon totter to the ground in bankruptcy 
and revolution. These notions are about as wide of the 
truth as some of those which used to be current in Europe 
regarding America and the American people. 

The fact is there is no people in Europe except the En- 
glish who have so strong political resemblances to the 
American as the Russian. In all their local affairs they 
have institutions resembling our own in a striking degree, 
in which the people govern, and govern with great con- 
servatism. In fact, local self-government goes a step fur- 
ther with the Russians than with us in all the agricultural 
districts, the land being held in common, and managed 
by a meeting of all the proprietors, the nearest analogy to 
which is the New England town-meeting. If the de- 
scendants of the worshipful Major Pynchon had continued 
to meet annually and allot the use of the commons of the 
town of Springfield, as they did in the seventeenth cen- 
tury, and as is still done in Nantucket and some other 
towns of New England, we should have here the com- 
munal land system which has never been abandoned in 
Russia. The communal meetings are absolutely demo- 
cratic; every head of a family, whether man or woman, 
is a member, and entitled to equal rights. It may be 
doubted whether the theory of Henry George is so nearly 
carried out in practice among any other civilized people. 
It follows from this circumstance that while the Russians 
have not the common school advancement of the Ger- 
mans, they are in a narrow way intelligent, self-reliant 
and conservative. They are not, in other words, as so 
many imagine, incapable of self-government. The local 
affairs, such as highways, bridges and public works of 
each district, are already managed by local assemblies, to 
which the communal assemblies send delegates in the 
proportion of one representative from every ten houses. 
There are also provincial assemblies. The whole ma- 
chinery of a democratic government in fact exists, where 
its existence is most important, namely, next to the peo- 
ple ; when it rises to the national power, corresponding to 
our Congress and President, it is lacking, and there stands 
in place of it the autocratic power of the spiritual, tem- 
poral and military head of the nation, the Czar of all the 
Russias. He governs first through the council of state, 
composed of his appointees and the princes, and exercis- 
ing the highest executive and legislative functions; sec- 
ond, through the senate, corresponding to our supreme 
court ; and, finally, through the high synod controlling 
religious affairs. The Czar is the weakness of the Russian 
governmental system, not because he is a despot, but be- 
cause it is impossible for imperial power to keep the sharp 
watch upon administration which is exercised by parlia- 
mentary government. The Czar must act through deputy 
czars, who advise him and exercise the real government, 
and who at the same time constitute his only environ- 
ment and the only medium through which he sees his 
people. Under those circumstances his government can 
at best be a mere groping. It needs the wholesome influ- 
ence of the sunlight of publicity, as secured by a repre- 
sentative assembly, levying the taxes and voting the ap- 
propriations, and by an unfettered press. 

But the Russians do not look at these matters as 
Americans do, but from the standpoint of all the past 
of Russian history. Russian history is inseparable from 
the spiritual and temporal dynasties of the czars; the 
people think, as they have thought for generations, that 
the czar is the father of the nation. They shudder when 
he is blown up; they cheer when he rides forth to enter 
upon a campaign. They do not theorize about parlia- 
mentary government ; they hate military service, but we 
suspect the mass of them are much more ready to shoot 
down revolutionists than to revolutionize, because the 
mass of the people, unlike the French, are not revolution- 
ists, but conservatives. 

The intelligent, middle and noble classes are imbued 
by two antagonistic spirits— the spirit of militarism and 
loyalty to the government, and the spirit of progress, 
revolution and democracy. The latter spirit inspires the 
martyrs of nihilism and revolution. It has the future on 
its side. The intelligent Russians rival Americans in 
their capacity of adapting themselves to circumstances. 
The czar needs their assistance in a constitutional govern- 
ment. It is the necessity of the hour with him, not 
merely because it is demanded, but because imperialism 
is the feeblest of all forms of government. An important 
characteristic in which the Russians resemble the Ameri- 
cans is in the spirit of equality permeating all classes. 
There are, of course, gross inequalities of condition, there 
as here, but there is a respect for man as man which is 
quite different from English or German snobocracy. 

The attempt to govern a nation of over 100,000,000 
people by imperialism develops all the cruel and arbitrary 
features described by Stepniak and those who have been 
through the horrors of Siberia. The czar knows no way 
of meeting the desperate spirit of revolution but by ruth- 
less and unscrupulous espionage, the total suppression of 
newspapers, the trial of suspected persons by military 
seizures which have no vestige of judicial procedure, and 
by other acts of the most odious and cruel tyranny. As 
in all governments where power is under no responsibility 
to publicity, private malice finds a ready agency to its 
purpose in directing oppression against the objects of 
hatred. How long this warfare upon private right in the 
name of the czar can go on, without provoking revolution, 
is one of the questions of the hour. That either revolu- 
tion or amelioration is not far distant is probable, but its 

near approach cannot be confidently predicted, in view 
of the patience, stolidity and conservatism of the Russian 

In regard to its financial standing, Russia has a depre- 
ciated currency, a great debt and an insufficient revenue; 
but her situation is not so bad as that of France to-day. 
The Russian debt includes 108,000,000/. of irredeem- 
able currency, now current at two-thirds value, or fifty 
cents per rouble ; it does not include the government 
interest in railroads, which amounts to one-half of the 
capital of the railways of the empire. The gross receipts 
of all the railways in 1883 were about $115,000,000, of 
which thirty per cent was net ; mileage 15,000. The pop- 
ulation of European Russia is 86,000,000. 

Russia is not, therefore, a bankrupt, a moribund, or a 
half-civilized power, or necessarily on the point of revolu- 
tion. Her people have the characteristics, the customs, 
the traditions and the conservatism which enables them 
to govern themselves in small things, and will ultimately 
enable them to govern the empire. The czar has a 
strong hold upon the inbred loyalty of the common peo- 
ple, but he needs more and more the intelligent assist- 
ance of the people as developed in representative institu- 
tions. His imperial system is fast nearing the end of its 
rope; it cannot go much further without calling the peo- 
ple to power. If he pleases, he can gain this end without 
revolution, but if he delays too long, revolution will bring 
it. The resources of the country, vast in territory, arc 
only feebly developed as yet, but with that development 
the Slav nation will grow great, mighty and impregnable. 
Springfield Republican. 


Out of the earthly years we live 
How small a profit springs! 

I cannot think but life should give 
Higher and better things. 

The very ground whereon we tread 
Is clothed to please our sight ; 

I cannot think that we have read 
Our dusty lesson right. 

So little comfort we receive, 
Except through what we see, 

I cannot think we half believe 
Our immortality. 

We disallow and trample so 
The rights of poor, weak men, 

I cannot think we feel and know 
They are our brethren. 

So rarely our affections move 

Without a selfish guard, 
I cannot think we know that love 

Is all of love's reward. 

To him who smites the cheek is turned 

With such a slow consent, 
I cannot think that we have learned 

The holy Testament. 

Blind, ignorant, we grope along 

A path misunderstood, 
Mingling with folly and with wrong 

Some providential good. 

Striving with vain and idle strife 

In outward show to live, 
We famish, knowing not that life 

Has better things to give. 


I strayed one golden noon in May 

'Neath trembling trees where sunbeams lay 

Like bright mosaics on the grass. 

The roystering robins saw me pass, 

And quavered forth low greeting notes 

The while they preened their glossy coats. 

Through avenues of hollyhocks, 

Down winding paths 'twixt well-trimmed box, 

1 wandered till I saw outreach 

A lawn that overlooked the beach. 

Athwart its emerald belt was set 

A deftly wrought and dainty net, 

Recalling mimic wars between 

The knights who trod the courts of green 

When Pompadour, long, long ago, 

With Louis roamed through Fontainebleau. 

Beneath a patriarchal pine 
I sat and watched the sunlit brine. 
A single gull far out at sea 
Flew up the still air spirally; 
The gleaming of its silvery wing 
Was like wan aspen leaves in spring. 
White-pinioned ships sailed slowly t>y 
And faded 'twixt the sea and sky, 
Each seeking weighty argosies. 
The hours sped on like silent bees 
That pass at noonday, amber clad; 
The swashing of the waves grew sad 
As is the song of hermit thrush, 
Or rustling of the river rush; 
Then, calm night came, and soon, afar, 
A beacon light shone like a star ! 

Clinton Scollard, in Boston Transcript . 


Here is one leaf reserved for me, 
From all thy sweet memorials free; 
And here my simple song might tell 
The feelings thou must guess so well. 
But could I thus within thy mind 
f>ne little vacant corner find, 
Where no impression yet is seen, 
Where no memorial yet has been, 
Oh! it should be my sweetest care 
To write my name forever there! 

Thomas Moore. 

The King of Saxony is reported to have offered to the 
British government Raphael's celebrated painting, the 
" Madonna di San Sisto." The price asked is $750,000. 
The picture is more than 350 yeais old. 


So familiar in histrionic circles is the name of Peg 
Woffington, that a novice might expect to see it on the 
playbills rather than to learn that this star set upon the 
world's stage shortly after the middle of the last century. 
Her right to be reckoned a star of the first magnitude is 
indisputable, although her being born to shine is a simple 
mystery, like the up-springing of a charming flower with 
the seeds of a kitchen garden, and seems as curious as 
the manner of her debut. The Foundling of Genius 
would have been an appropriate surname for this washer- 
woman's daughter, born in 1719 in an obscure street of 
Dublin, with exquisite endowments for personating the 
fine lady, from a manner of the highest distinction even 
to the long and taper fingers of a hand that Canova would 
have delighted in as a model. Her voice alone had not 
a complete share in the wonderful evolution. 

A tight-rope performer known as Mine. Yolante, 
attracted by the beauty and charm of the child, took her 
as an apprentice ; and the first appearance of the inc ipient 
actress destined to see the theater-going world at her feet, 
was in the perilous position of a pendant to the feet of her 
patroness. When afterward the latter organized a Lili- 
putian company, Margaret Woffington acted " Polly 
Peachum," in the Beggar's Opera. Next she made a 
reputation as a dancer in interludes. 

From the age of twenty, when she appeared in the role 
of " Ophelia," dates her imj>ortant career. As " Phillis " 
in Steele's comedy of the Conscious Lovers, the talent of 
the noble actress was conspicuous, and through the years 
" Phillis" continued one of her favorite parts. In what 
became her stock character, " Sir Harry Wildair," she 
achieved an immediate success which gained her an invi- 
tation to Covent Garden, and thence to the crowning 
eminence of Drury-lane. Woffington and Garrick were 
now companions of the stage, and at one time were 
promised companions for life in a cToser relationship; but 
the actress's "Sir Harry" so far outrivaling his as to 
drive him from the stage in that character, the great actor 
took with him, along with the general make-up, his heart 
and hand. Hardly one in a generation coula satisfy the 
demands of the exhilarant hero of Farquhar's fantasio; 
Peg Woffington's miracle filled all lur audiences, and 
actually magnified the play to every beholder. As 
"Portia," "Rosalind," or "Silvia" in the Recruiting 
Officer, her masculine disguise was inimitable. Miss 
Woffington would have ranked great in tragedy, save that 
in genteel comedy she outrivaled herself. She was a 
leading Lady Macbeth of her time, and her assumption 
of the characters of " Cleopatra," "Jane Shore," " Con- 
stance " in King John, and a dozen others, was markedly 

Only a few years of triumph were accorded this queen 
of the stage, for in her prime of life her health declined, 
and with it her beauty and vivacity. After a term of re- 
tirement in her native Dublin, where her presence in any 
public assembly always commanded unbounded enthusi- 
asm, she was induced by the financial wreck of her friend 
Thomas Sheridan, father of the dramatist and manager 
of the Dublin Theater, to return to the stage. 

Covent Garden gave her a warm welcome back. Rut 
although she conscientiously labored to occupy the place 
so fairly won before, it was evident that her chief con- 
quests were over. She was then about thirty-five. In the 
spring of 1757, while playing " Rosalind," in As You P.ike 
It, for the benefit of a humble member of the company, 
she spoke at the close of the fourth act of feeling much 
indisposed. Responding to the call at the fifth act, she 
went through her part, and at the quick change 
of dress, again complained of illness, but again went before 
the footlights — and it was the last time — for the finale. 
She pronounced the epilogue speech, " If it be true that 
good wine needs no bush," etc., but in the lines imme- 
diately following, her voice broke and she faltered. Mak- 
ing a futile effort to rally, with a murmured exclamation 
of " O God ! O God ! " she turned toward the stage door 
like a shot doe seeking covert. A friend caught her sink- 
ing form. A round of applause from the full house lasted 
till she had disappeared, and was succeeded by the still- 
ness of the tomb, as the awe of the situation fell upon the 
ranks of the entertained. Their distinguished favorite 
seemed to have died before their eyes. 

It was not till three years after that fatal night that Miss 
Woffington passed from her invalid's couch to the repose 
of the grave. The interval was spent at Teddington, in 
becoming forgetfulness of self and quiet beneficence 
toward others. Overlooking the graveyard where she lies 
may still be seen a row of picturesque cottages built by 
her as almshouses, but which have now become private 
property. A neat mural monument in the little Geor- 
gian church near by is inscribed, " Margaret Woffington, 
Spinster." — Pavinia S. Goodwin, in Boston Transcript. 

The patriarch Job was the first man of whom it may be 
said that he was "saved by the skin of his teeth," for he 
says of himself (Job xix. 20) : " My bone c lea vet h to my 
skin and to my flesh, and I am escaped with the skin of 
my teeth." The modern form of the expression is not a 
strictly accurate quotation, but it is near enough to the 
original to show, beyond reasonable doubt, that it must 
be referred to it. Anah is mentioned (Gen. xxxvi. 24) as 
having " found the mules in the wilderness, as he fed the 
asses of Zibeon, his father." This is the first mention of 
mules in Holy Scripture, but afterwards they were fre- 
quently spoken of. They were used for princes to ride, 
as in the case of Absalom, and indeed of all King David's 
so n s . — Tidbit. 

The accumulation of $30,000,000 of fractional currency 
in the Treasury is a discreditable piece of business. A 
street car company takes in many nickels, but did any 
one ever hear of a treasurer who proposed to his directors 
to set aside $50,000 in such coin because they were prac- 
tically useless as legal tender? There is no compulsory 
coinage of small pieces. The Treasury of the United 
States has not been run either fairly of legally for the last 
ten years. — Current. 





The Palette Club is scattered to the four 
winds of heaven. The artists are communing 
with nature, and chewing the cud of reflection 
in country byways; the pictures are fluttering 
around, finding resting places here and there. 
Some are at the Art Association where the free 
permanent exhibition goes on in lonely state. 
The fact is, art is so dull that nothing short of a 
dozen or so good stirring pictures will revive it. 
Our artists are mainly nice, clever people. The 
worst to be said of them is that some of them 
lack three things, viz.: talent, inspiration and 
the capacity for work. As for study, the term is 
not understood in San Francisco. It would 
not take long to count up the number of artists j 
who have read enough to be able to conceive a 
classic subject if they wanted to paint one. It 
does not seem to occur to them that there is in- ] 
finite reading to be done in art as well as in law j 
or medicine. 

Art, to be brilliantly successful, requires a 
curious combination of abilities. The ideal 
artist should have the imagination of a poet, the 
mechanical industry of a cobbler, and as much 
knowledge of law and theory as would equip a 
successful member of the bar. 

They are rather disposed to guy us in New 
York. Trumble, the well-known critic of the 
Dailv Anus, says in his last fuillcton, that he 
hears they know but three artists in San Fran- 
cisco—Raphael, Michael Angelo and Toby 
Rosenthal! That is putting our Toby in very 
good company, if it does twit on our ignorance 
a little. 

While Rosenthal is not exactly an old master 
—perhaps not even a modern master— he deserves 
all the admiration he can inspire. There are 
times when »rt seems to languish so for the 
want of common-sense business capacity and 
industry, that Rosenthal seems positively colos- 
sal in the possession of those qualities. It is his 
misfortune that he went to the German and not 
to the French school. In France he would have 
taken in at the pores that which would have 
added a zest and grace to his sportive fancies, 
an additional charm to his melancholy concep- 
tions. His " Elaine," which remains on exhibi- 
tion because it is still drawing, is almost a 
F'rench picture. He was in a mood to go to 
Paris about that time, and since then he has be- 
come heavier again. As the years roll by Rosen- 
thal grows in technical excellence and commer- 
cial cleverness. Hut he had' in his early man- 
hood two or three heaven-sent flashes of inspira- 
tion which he has never excelled and may never 
equal. Chief among these is" Elaine "—simple, 
powerful, poetic, a picture that impresses both 
the learned and unlearned, and of which the 
public never tire, (irant him cold, mechanical, 
with an eye single to pecuniary profit, what you 
will, there is a soulful beauty, a genuine thrill, 
in "Elaine." When he paints a large number 
of figures, he doubles up his faults and obscures 
his virtues. After " Elaine " I think almost any 
artist would count his "Wanderer's Return," 
owned by General Barnes. It is a powerful, 
pathetic subject, so consistently carried out that 
the details blend like a chord of divinest organ 
music. Yes, Trumble is right. We like Rosen- 

In a week or two Fred Yates, whose approach- 
ing departure has been announced this long 
time, leaves for a two years' trip to Paris. There 
are rumors that he is to have a sale before he 
goes. But, if so, the sale will be— perhaps has 
been — a very private affair. On Thursday even- 
ing his scholars, who arc warmly attached to 
him, gave him a farewell reception at the Art 
Students' League. Mr. Yates is both young and 
talented, and two years more of study in Paris 
should make him what he hopes to be. 

Private letters from Paris say that Lizzie 
Strong is making her mark there, and is regarded 
by certain artists of note as a second Rosa 
Bonheur. Miss Strong is a worthy little wom- 
an, a born artist, a girl who has made her mark 
in spite ot oppression, injustice, and difficulties 
of all kinds. She began with stroke after stroke 
of the kind of ill-luck that seems to be the 
prerogative of struggling genius. Even now, 
after several years of hard labor, she is peacefully 
working her way in a sort of humble prosperity. 
She has gained some sort of a hold on the 
Boston market, and there her pictures sell well. 
They sell better anywhere than in San Fran- 
cisco. Her facility in composition has been 
from the very beginning instinctive and rcmark- 
.able. There will always be life and variety in 
all her works. With her great talents and her 
humble perseverance in study, Lizzie Strong is 
an artist of whom California will some day be 
inordinately proud. 

Since The San Franciscan published a squib 
about Barkhaus, anecdotes concerning that pen- 
sive young fire-cater have been coming to hand. 

One gentleman relates that, having for some 
time admired his cartoons, he made up his mind 
to propose Barkhaus as a member of the Bo- 
hemian Club. He had never seen Barkhaus, 
but he thought he would hunt him up. Going 
up to the »lub to consult with a friend about the 
subject, he stumbled across a couple of boys 
whoVere playing on the stairs, and reached the 
club in something of a bad temper in conse- 

" Bother those boys ! They ought to be sup- 
pressed, and certainly shouldn't be allowed to 
play on the club steps," said he as he entered 
the club, and added, as he met his friend : " Oh, 
by the way, I want to see you about proposing 
Barkhaus for the club. He really ought to be- 
long, you know." 

"Yes, certainly. Very good idea," said his 
friend. " Ever met him? " 

"Why, no; but I know from his caricatures in 
the Wasp that he's a very clever man." 

"Quite right, quite right. Want to see 
him? " 

" Yes." 

" Come out here, then. He's the boy you just 
fell over on the stairs! " 

Another story relates that Barkhaus did once 
meet Frank Pixley. It was at a picnic. Bark- 
haus was meekly sketching in a corner, when he 
suddenly became conscious of a great bluster 
and a vigorous displacement of air. He looked 
up and saw Pixley approaching, apparently in 
wrath. Barkhaus recognized Pixley from the 
caricatures that he himself had made of him. 
He felt his hour had come. His heart and his 
camp-stool collapsed. The perspiration stood 
upon his childlike brow. He tried to hide be- 
hind his pencil, tried to fly, tried to sink into 
the earth, and finally fell down and gave himself 
up for dead. 

"B-r-r-r-r!" said Pixley, flapping his linen 
duster. "Where is that young rascal? Show 
me the whipper-snapper! Let me see the man 
who made those pictures of me in the IVasp." 

"O-h-h!" groaned Barkhaus. "Lord have 
mercy on my soul ! " 

"A-h-h! let me find him— just let me find 
him ! " exulted Pixley. " I'll teach him a lesson. 
I'll show him something. I mean, rentlemen, 
to prove to that young rascal who has insulted 
my good looks, that fm not so 

makes me appear!' 
Barkhaus lives. 

ugly as he 


He was an old man, and said he'd seen better 
times. I hoped he had; but as I was unusually 
busy and didn't want any life insurance, if he 
mould excuse me — 

" Oh, yes, ' said he. "All right, young man, 
I'll drop in again." The next Jay he did " drop 
in," and sitting down on my desk, began : 

"Nothing in the world, my young friend, will 
pay so large a per cent on so little money in- 
vested as a policy in the Mutual Benefit Associ- 
ation, the most reliable and the only solid com- 
pany on earth; capital over seven millions, and 
so prompt — why, I insured a man last week for 
ten thousand dollars, and the same day he was 
run over by a street car, so when I sent in the 
policy and premium, I said, by way of a P. S., 
' Run over by a hoss car not an hour alter being 
insured. Better send on check, as he can't live; 
both legs cut ofl.' That very 'day I got a check 
payable to his heirs, for ten thousand five hun- 
dred and sixty dollars. Dividend, my dear boy, 
was more than the premium, and don't you call 
this prompt? That man's widow got this check 
before he had been dead fifteeen minutes." 

" But," said I, " I have no wife, and don't 
want any life insurance, 1 tell you." 

"The investment, my yuing friend, the invest- 
ment. Look at the dividend. This may get 
$500 in one hour, you might say, and then you 
might have a wife some day. Now, you do want 
a policy in this company. I know you do. I'm 
an old man; have had large and varied experi- 
ence, and know you are just aching for one of 
these policies ; only you are so extremely modest . 
Now, rll just make out your application; it only 
costs you— let me sec. How old are you? " 

"Twenty-six, but " 

"Twenty six— hum. Father living?" 


" How old was he when he died? " 
" lust twenty-seven. years old." 
"Twenty-seven, hey? What did he die of? 
Accident, I presume! 
"No sir, consumption." 

"Consumption? You don't look consump- 

" But I am consumptive, and " 

" Mother's living, I doubt not?" 

"No sir; she died at twenty-eight." 

" What was the cause of her death?" 

"Insanity, sir, hereditary insaTiity; family's 
full of it. All my brothers, thirteen of us in all, 
died between twenty-four and twenty-eight, ot 
the same disease. Dangerous, too, some of 
them; my oldest brother was taken about this 
time one day ; he killed his partner, book-keeper, 
three clerks and fourteen customers, before tney 
could secure him. and — 

" You don't tell me! This is wonderful ! you 
look like a strong, healthy man, likely to live 
fifty years. Was you ever sick? " 

"Oh, yes; I've had inflammatory rheumatism, 
pneumonia, dysentery, small-pox, mumps, liver 
complaint, fits, corns, and — " 

"Good heavens! And you want me to insure 
your life! Well, my company is a good com- 
pany, willing to take an ordinary business risk, 
but I must say, I never knew them to insure a 
corpse. I'd like to accommodate you, young 
man; you seem anxious about it, and I feel 
interested in your family; but our surgeon 
wouldn't pass such an application. Good-day." 






12 9 and 131 Keariiy Street. 



Tine Mechanics' Pavilion 

OS THE ETESIBGS OF MAY 38th, 3l)tli, SOtb, JI M; 1st and ;«l 

AMI 0.\ THE AFTERNOONS OF MA V 30th ami JIM: ;i«l 



THURSDAY Introuuctory Miscf.i.i.aneous 

FRIDAY French Composers 

SATURDAY MATINEE You n G People's Popular 

SATURDAY NIGHT First Wagner Programme 

MONDAY Spanish Programme 

TUKSDAY Second Wagner Programme 

WEDNESDAY MATINEE Farewell Popular Programme 

The Concerts will be under the personal direction of 


Who will bring from New York his 

And the following Eminent Vocalists: 





MR. MAX H El N RICH, h.»«; 



COURT SINGER FROM THE IMPERIAL OPERA. VIENNA. (Especially engaged by Mr. Thomas for 

his Concerts in San Francisco.) 


Reserved Seats, Single Concerts (According to Location $1 00, $3 00. $3 00 

Box Seats, Single Concerts (According to Location) $4 00, $5 00 

Sale of Reserved Seats for Single Concerts now in progress at the Musi.. Stores of M. GRAY, and SHER- 

SEVMOFR E. I.ncKC. Manager Tliomits Conccrls. Occidental Hotel. 


Saturday and Sunday. .May 30tli and IM 

All Aboard, with Your Sisters, Your Cousins, 
and Your Aunts. 

Grand Production of the Popular Comic Opera, 



50 Artists 50 Artists 50 Artists. 

A full-rigged Man-uf-War. The Greatest Juvenile Cast 
that has ever appeared together. 

A Number of Specialists also engaged. 


Admission 10 cents and i~> cents. 




No printing matter on the Cigarette proper. Each Ci- 
garette is embossed with the brand. 



888-885 Rattery Street. 

Hat Store on this Coast, 
332-336 KEAKNY ST., 

Bet. Bueh and Pine StB., San Francisco. 

Rrancb 1212-1314 Market, above Taylor. 

Send for Illustrated Catalogue. Mailed free. 




Do not fail to see our well selected stock of 
New Spring and Summer Styles 




Either Fire-proof, Burglar-proof, or Fire and Burglar- 
proof, a Bank Vault, Time Lr>ck, or anything in the 
line of Safes, large or small, don't fail to call on 


2it and 213 California street. 
Safes sold on installments or taken in exchange. 

C. B. PARCELLS, Manager. 


AL. HAYMAN Lessee and Manager 

Every Evening, excepting Sunday. 

Saturday and Sunday Evenings. . . THE OCTOROON 

Monday Evening, June ist, and during the week, 


With MISS FANNY DAVENPORT, assisted by the 
Madison Square and Baldwin Theater Co's. 


AL. HAYMAN Lessee and Manager 

Monday Evening, June tst, and until further notice. 
Harvey's Latest London Success, 


With Maubury & Overton's Dramatic Company, and 

Cheap Prices. 


M. B. LEAVITT Lessee and Proprietor. 

C. P. HALL Manager. 

Every Evening, the World- Renowned Commcdienne, 


Supported by J. O. Barrows and an excellent troupe, in 
an English persion of Sardou's Comedy. 



F. W. STECHHAN Manager 


The Cheerful Comedian, in Gunter's successful Melo- 
dramatic Comedy, 




Eddy Street, Near Market. 

KREL1NG BROS Sole Proprietors and Managers 

Every Evening until further notice, Offenbach's Beauti- 
ful Opera Comique, 


In Active Preparation ROBINSON CRUSOE 




S. W. cor. Mason and Eddy Sts. 
Open Dally from 9 A. to 11 IV M. 



Importing, Manufacturing and Dispensing 


Everything new, first-class; Urge assortment. Market 
and Stockton sts. Store always open. 




"A thing of beauty is a joy forever." Keats 
was an Englishman, and consequently did not 
add to that one requisite those which in a 
Frenchwoman make ample compensation for the 
lack of beauty, chic, verve, esprit— all of which 
seem destined to be a joy forever in Mile. 
Aimee. When this little Gallic " deviless " was 
with us some years ago, it was quite the fashion 
to declare, with much sentimental head-shaking 
and regret, that with her voice the glory of this 
star of opera bouffe had finally departed. Her 
warmest admirers were advised to stay away 
from the exhibition of departed fascination — if 
the bull may t* allowed. But they went, not- 
withstanding and of course; and, somehow, they 
remained admirers still, and said, smiling, 
"Voice or no voice, there is but one Aimee." 
But the wise and witty Madame herself knew 
that some sort of vocal power is needed in opera, 
even of the bouffe order. So she turned to 
comedy, and later to a new language. And 
now, after all this interval, she is again among 
us, as full as ever of her old-time diablerie, and 
hardly perceptibly changed in that graceful and 
abounding movement and life which reminds 
one forcibly of that earlier day when her quick, 
springy motion, and graceful, velvety tread 
seemed less that of a woman than of some'supple, 
sinewy leopardess, with a civilized penchant for 
opera bouffe. 

And this time she has essayed what so many of 
her fair compatriots have attempted— a new 
language. In the standard English plays of 
Modjeska, Rhea and others, the slightest foreign 
accent jars on the ear as an unpardonable in- 
congruity; but in the line chosen by Mile. 
Aimee it adds a piquancy as appropriate as it is 
delightful. No matter what language Aimee 
repeats, she thinks, acts, smiles and grimaces in 
French. So completely is she imbued with the 
spirit of the original Divorcons of Sardou, that 
it crops out and infuses itself throughout the 
toned-down and suppressed English version, 
which is more suited to American ideas. Not 
one of her own peculiar and famous shrugs, nods, 
winks, and other suggestive pantomime, is in 
the least degree English. So with Aimee as its 
interpreter, the play has for the ordinary be- 
holders some little of that undefined but com- 
prehended charm of "forbidden truit " which 
enters so largely into its plot. J. O. Barrows, as 
" Dcs Prunelles," the rather complaisant hus- 
band of the capricious " Cyprienne," gives an 
excellent support. "Adhemar " is not intended 
to cut a shining figure by constrast with the 
legitimate object of the fickle " Cyprienne's " de- 
votion, and Mr. W. A. Whitecar represents him 
very appropriately, in this light. 

Impulse, at the Baldwin, ought to be seen and 
heard of all American husbands. The name of 
the play and the voice of the general public 
would be supposed to have struck the key-note 
of the lesson derived from the play. And Anglo- 
Saxon morality insists on a moral tagged on to 
its amusement, its poetry, and every intellectual 
entertainment— which addition is inartistic but 
highly respectable. But the lesson of Impulse 
is not the danger arising from woman's impul- 
siveness; it is a solemn and awful warning 
against man's undemonstrativeness. "Major 
MacDonald " is a man who, while loving, nay 
idolizing, his wife, leaves her to take his affection 
for granted— just what no loving woman could 
ever be contented to do. It is a pity that, when 
one of these silent, self-contained " grand seign- 
eurs," with whom love is a sort of dumb-ague, 
marries a spirited, sensitive, exigent woman like 
"Mrs. MacDonald," the officiating clergyman 
can not make the marriage vow read, "love, 
honor,"and tell her so, " so long as ye both shall 
live." Does any man imagine that he can prove 
his devotion by meat-offerings and oblation*, or 
even by the more costly sacrifice of diamonds, 
sealskins and millinery? If such there be, let him 
go and see Impulse, and if he isn't sufficiently 
digusted by the trouble caused by "Major Mac- 
Donald," wifh the very best and stupidest in- 
tentions, I am a false prophet. At last, during 
a long absence, this reticent and thoughtful 
lover is wounded, and lies helpless for two 
months. During all that time he is unable to 
write, nor will he permit any one to tell his 
wife, lest it cause her anxiety — as if any fond 
wife wouldn't rather know her husband to be suf- 
fering from a thousand saber wounds than to 
think herself forgotten! But the Major's mag- 
nanimous intention is carried out with idiotic 
fidelity, the consequence being that he comes 
pretty near "losing a wife by this yer foolish- 
ness." That he doesn't lose her altogether is 
more than he deserves; but an audience is rather 
good-natured than revengeful, and on the whole 
we are satisfied to see the curtain go down on a 
general reconciliation, and, let us hope, a " mod- 
el husband " so far reformed as to have the amia- 
ble weakness of putting his love into words as 
well as deeds. 

Miss Georgie Cayvan as " Mrs. Beresford" is 
charming enough to make it easy, not to say 
irresistible, for any man fo make love to her, and 
when "Colonel Crichton " is finally inspired to 
forgo his bashfulness and declare himself, there 
is a general feeling that one minute's further 
delay would have stamped him as an irreclaim- 
able muff. Mr. J. N. Long plays the part of this 
hesitating lover with his usual excellence. Miss 

Adele Waters, though somewhat superficial 
in her delineation, is very good as "Mrs. 
MacDonald," and Miss Annie Adams in the 
part of " Miss Kilmore," the marrying spinster, 
gives her usual excellent humorous character- 
ization. Mr. Joseph Wheelock is much more 
agreeable as "Major MacDonald" than as 
"Steve," in May Blossom. Nevertheless, 
there is a certain weakness, even in his 
evident intent of being essentially manly. 
He is certainly freer from anything like stage 
mannerism than the great majority of our best 
actors. He is perfectly natural, which is saying 
very much; but it is not an altogether pleasant 
naturalness. As for Lewis Morrison, it is next 
to impossible that he should not be an acqui- 
sition to any play. As " Victor dc Riel," he is 
perfectly satisfactory so far as grasp of the char- 
acter and its requirements is concerned. But 
Mr. Morrison, like James O'Neil, whom he in 
many respects resembles, is falling more and 
more under the domination of certain stage 
tricks and mannerisms, so that his villains and 
his much enduring heroes have one thing in 
common — they are Morrissonian, while at the 
same time pretty fairly human. It must be said 
for Mr. Morrison that these peculiarities are 
undeniably his own — they are no imitations. It 
may be possible that a strong partiality makes 
one more hypercritical than a prejudice could 
do. But it strikes me that this actor can make 
himself so very satisfactory by dropping a few of 
these "little ways" that he ought to do it. For 
example, it is not usual for even a much more 
abandoned villain than " de Riel" to come in 
with a long slide that lands him half way across 
the stage, which he appears to have taken for a 
skating-rink. And this slide is getting to be a 
part of Mr. Lewis's stock in trade. An actor 
so nearly perfect, might as well go to work and 
make himself entirely so. 

The Califsrnia has continued the very success- 
ful fi't during the week. It is a play that will 
long be remembered in San Francisco, and will 
no doubt take an equal hold on any audiences 
before whom it may be presented. 

The audiences at the Standard have shown no 
sign of failing off, unless it be of falling off the 
seats from laughter. 

The Tivoli has gone on with its excellent pro- 
duction of The Pretty Poacher, just as if it had 
never been accused of being a "blight." The 
audiences don't seem to feel blighted, either. 

The performances given on Saturday and Sun- 
day at Woodward's tested the seating capacity 
of the Pavilion to its utmost. Fryer's Circus 
proved, as expected, a great card. To-morrow 
(Saturday) and Sunday a grand production of 
Pinafore by the Tivoli Juvenile Opera Company 
will be given with a full-rigged Man-of-war. A 
number of specialists including Len Shillets, 
Minnie Tittel, and the two Midgets will also 


Manager Hayman, of the Baldwin, will return 
to this city on Sunday next. 

At the California Monday, June 1st, Maubury 
& Overton will produce A Ping 0/ Iron. 

The Mikado has been finally secured for 
Boston, and will be produced at the Bijou 

On the evening before sailing for Europe Mile. 
Nevada sang for the benefit of the Bartholdi 
pedestal fund. 

The marriage of Miss Edwina Booth to Mr. 
Grossmann took place at Mr. Booth's residence, 
No. 29 Chestnut street, Boston. 

Mary Anderson will remain but ten months in 
America, and will then return to Europe, where 
she has engagements for three years ahead. 

Sunday, June 7th, Mr. Paul Juignet, the well- 
known French actor and manager, will commence 
a season of French opera and comedy at the 

The benefit of Miss Eva West at the Grand 
Opera House Saturday night, should and un- 
doubtedly will be a financial success for the 
young and talented actress. 

At the Standard next week Howard Johnson's 
society comedy, 'The Banker's Wife, will be pro- 
duced, with Adele Waters, Frank Wright, How- 
ard Liston, and others in the cast. 

The veteran English tenor, Sims Reeves, an- 
nounces his fixed intention to appear in America 
next fall. With a tenor of eighty, the suscept- 
ible hearts of our young ladies will be compara- 
tively safe. 

Emma Thursby, the strong-voiced, has taken 
passage for Europe. She might have saved 
traveling expenses. If she had stood on Cape 
Cod and sung the " Star Spangled Banner " in 
her best voice, they could have heard her across 
the Atlantic just as well. 

After Miss Davenport's engagement of two 
weeks, the present season at the Baldwin will 
close with Mestayer and Vaughn's comedy com- 
pany in We, Us <Sr* Co. The play is said to be 
funny emough to redeem the name, which is de- 
cidedly against it. 

Tlje piano recital by the pupils of Mrs. John 
Vance Cheney, at her residence, No. 585 Ellis 
street, on last Tuesday evening, was a most in- 
teresting event. None of the young ladies who 
partTcipated had been longer than two years 
under Mrs. Cheney's instruction; and yet their 
even and rapid execution and exquisite touch 
was simply marvelous. 

The piano recital of Mr. Otto Bcndix, on 
Tuesday night, at Irving Hall, was a most de- 
lightful occasion to all who were fortunate 
enough to attend. The very high endorsement 
with which Mr. Bendix has come among us was 
more than sustained by the finish and style of 
his performance. Such a pianist is an acqui- 
sition to the constantly improving musical tal- 
ent of San Francisco. 

This (Saturday) evening The Octoroon will be 
given for the benefit of Messrs. Stockwell and 
Osborne. From appearances there' will be a full 
house. The performance itself, with such names 
as those of Miss Cayvan, l^ewis Morrison, 
Benjamin Maginley, Osborne, Stockwell, and 
others in the cast, should alone secure a good 
attendance, and the pleasure of testifying to the 
appreciation in which these two favorites are 
held must double the number, 

Before the issue of the current number o( this 
paper one of the concerts of the great Thomas 
Festival will have been given. Even at the time 
of writing, it is safe to anticipate and put on 
record its entire success. It will remain in 
the next number only to mention its excel- 
lences in detail. The Young People's Popular 
Concert will take place Saturday at two p. m. 
and Saturday night the first Wagner programme 
will be given. Monday, Spanish themes; Tues- 
day, the second Wagner programme; and 
Wednesday matinee, a farewell popular concert. 

In order to hold a copyright a limited edition 
of Gilbert and Sullivan's Mikadoh&s been pub- 
lished in America. To the same end the reduc- 
tion for piano-lorte of the orchestral score has 
been made by an American citizen. The Ameri- 
can edition will probably be issued early in Sep- 
tember, and soon after the opera will be brought 
out at one of several leading eastern theaters that 
are now bidding for the new attraction, ft is 
not improbable that Sir Arthur Sullivan may be 
present on the occasion of its first production. 
The music has been pronounced equal to that of 
Pinafore, new, catchy and characteristic; but 
the chief charm is said to be in Gilbert's libretto, 
which is full of the quaint conceits and solemn 
absurdities that made Pinafore irresistible. It 
is said to he drawn largely from Mr. Gilbert's 
own " Bab Ballads." 

The very successful year of Mr. Ilayman's 
management at the Baldwin Theater will end 
in a blaze of glory with the engagement of Miss 
Fanny Davenport as " Fedora." This part has 
become almost identified with the genius of Sara 
Bernhardt, and Miss Davenport's presentation 
of the character is said to be modeled on that of 
the great French tragedienne. With so brilliant 
a star, new scenery, gorgeous dresses, and the 
support of the combined Madison Square and 
Baldwin companies, the production of Sardou's 
masterpiece will be an event in San Francisco 
theatricals. The sale of seats for the whole 
week is already very large. Fedora will be pro- 
duced under the management of Daniel F"rohman, 
with Mr. Frank Willard as stage manager, and 
with the following cast : 

I. oris Ipanoff Jos. Wheelock 

De Sirieux ffarry Mainhall 

Gretch George Osbourne 

Dr. I.oreck W. H. Crompton 

Tchileff L. R. Stockwell 

Boroff David Bennett 

Desire Frank Nelson 

Rouvel J. N. Long 

Countess Olga Soukaroflf \ 4 Waters 

Dimitri, a page Kate Chester 

Baroness Ockra Sophie Eggert 

Mme. de Tourney Rose Walbridge 

and other characters by members of the com- 
bined companies. Dorothy. 

Money cheap at Uncle Jacobs, 613 Pacific st. 

Take breakfast or lunch at Swain's, 213 Sutter. 

In procuring glasses be cautions to seek aid 
of an expert optican. C. Midler stands at the 
head of his profession. 

The Hest Shoulder Brace*. 

No persons can be excused tor having round 
shoulders or a crooked spine when they can go 
to Freud's Corset House, and get a simple and 
perfect shoulder-brace for girls and ladies from 
Si to $1 50, and for boys and men from $2 to 
$2 50. 

On Wednesday, June jd, and Thursday, 
June 4th, Messrs. Easton & Eldridge will sell at 
public auction for Ichi Han upward of 500 lots 
selected from the entire stock of Japanese goods 
of that house. All lots positively unreserved. 
Sale at 11 a. m. each day. On Monday, June 
15th. Ichi Ban will open its beautiful new house 
fronting on Host street and Market street, op- 
posite the Palace Hotel, and will occupy the 
whole of the building formerly occupied by J. 
W. Burnham, as a furniture and carpet ware- 

Pending the opening of the new building the 
great 40 per cent sale of present stock will con- 

FerrN' Fine Corset Walata, 

Ferris' patent Good Sense corded corset waists 
are the best for health, comfort, wear and finish. 
They are beautifully corded, superior shape and 
perfect fitting. They have adjustable shoulder- 
straps supporting the skirts and stockings 
directly from the shoulders. F.vcry physician 
will recommend them. Having the sole agency 
for Ferris' waists we have a full assortment in 
white and drab for children, misses, young ladies 
and ladies. Freud's Corset House, 742 and 744 
Market, and 10 and 12 Dupont streets. Make 
no mistake in the place, and bear in mind that 
Freud's Corset House closes daily at 6 p. m., 
and on Saturdays at 10 p. m. 


A glimpse of the dancers of to-day reveals 
an altered state of things from that lilty years 
ago, and still more different from that of one 
hundred years since. At the second date the 
prim l'uritan customs were still quite rigid. 
The spirit of the blue laws was not so plainly 
afloat in the air as to make it of an indigo tint, 
but the " wild mob whose million feet " had 
spurned the Salem witches, did not move in 
harmony with dancing tunes. But after all the 
harsh edge of the times had become milder. So 
rapid was the contp.iest of "the wiles of the 
devil " over the people that before the nineteenth 
century was half over a dancing-master was in 
demand here. In those days the contra dances 
were all the fashion. "%Ioney Musk," the 
" F'ishers' Hornpipe," anil a score of quaint old 
figures, short-lived enough, were done over and 
over again to the sound of fiddles. The popu- 
larity of the minuet, that had been the courtly 
favorite of gallants in revolutionary days, had 
waned, and the waltz was by no means common, 

I if known well at all. Later came in the square 
dances which now have passed before the popu- 
larity of the waltz. " Not to know how to waltz 
is to be a wall-flower in society," is the dictum 
that drops from the judicial lips ol Professor 
Ro illy. The minuet is chiefly sought as a fancy 
dance, to be done en costume at some large 
reception or ball. It was last danced in this 

I city at a reception in '84. Beside the waltz, the 
other dances chiefly popular among the young 

' folk, and taught by the dancing-masters to-day, 
arc the polka, raquct-galop, lancicrs, .<•)! quad- 
rille. As taught at present by the best instruct- 
ors, there are six different steps in waltz prac- 
tice, a thorough knowledge which will enable 
the dancer to adopt his or her movement to those 
who may be met, unless a bungler beyond all 

The german is taught after the learners are 
proficient in the waltz and square dances. As 
danced in different cities, the movements of the 
same dance has many eccentricities. The 
" Boston dip" for a time was a phase common 
on every dancer's tongue. Even now the Bos- 
ton style of dancing is more violent than that in 
any neighboring eastern cities. The New York 
glide is more commonly accepted nowadays as 
the most graceful and decorous style of waltzing. 
As modified in different towns hereabout it may 
sometimes be recognized as the " Hartford hop, 
the " Worcester waddle," " New Haven hob- 
ble," and "Springfield scoot," although pro- 
fessional dancing-masters may not always rec- 
ognize the genuineness of these terms. The 
Highland fling, Spanish cachuca, and various 
lively fancy dances are taught children mostly 
for exhibition. I he novelties and innovations 
in the fashionable round dances, by the way, 
rarely originate with the professors. Young 
Americans abroad watching the caperings of 
foreigners, are struck, perhaps by some figure or 
variation, and, coming home, practice it among 
themselves. Vijry likely its first appearance 
will be at a large ball like the Charity or 
Patriarchs' ball, favorites among metropolitan 
dancers. Keen-eyed professors are usually on 
hand at those times to pick up what they can 
see for their own benefit. The only way in 
which they bring in new things is to change 
perhaps the figures or movements in a square 
dance. Recent illustrations of this are seen in 
the Saratoga and polo lancers and lawn-tennis 

As done in costume, the stately minuet, with 
all the courtly graces and airs that the gallants 
and dames of a century or two ago used to 
assume, is a most enchanting sight in the ball- 
room, but none the less graceful, and in some 
eyes more pleasing, is the german of to-day. 
Place the twenty couples of broadcloth-clad men 
and fair women, either dressed in bright colors 
and flashing with jewels, or in the modest robes 
of rosebud debutante— in a wide room whose 
walls and ce'ilings bear the evidence of wealth 
lavished with taste and skill in rich decoration 
and furnishings; conceal in a recess a well- 
trained orchestra; surround the room with the 
customary row of chairs, with the heap of glitter- 
ing bric-a-brac which the bright hostess has 
prepared as favors at the head, and let the 
leader begin the waltz. The scene is rare in 
beauty and color, light and grace, a rare picture 
of sensuous enjoyment. The polished floor is 
filled with whirling couples, with sinuous motion 
and easy movement, as they go through the 
different figures. Now one man leads out a 
couple of maidens, and his partner two men ; 
they advance and retreat, salute, and advancing 
again, opposites join hands and waltz about the 
room to places. One of the young women seats 
herself in a chair and selects her partner from 
the applicants who look over her shoulder into a 
mirror. Other more elaborate figures are per- 
formed with ribbons, with chairs and scarfs. 
There are the basket, arch, arbor, gates, the 
minuet, the double mill, and the triangle figure. 
In all there are one hundred ; but in one cotillon 
rarely more than a score are danced. — Springfield 

Drs. Darrin, magnetic physicians, 113 
Stockton street. Examination free. 

RELIABILITY of twenty-two years standing. 
Midler's optical depot, 135 Montgomery street. 

DELIGHTFUL weather for ladies and children 
to visit the Park. Refreshments at the Casino. 

A. W. Mykr repairs fine and complicated 
watches and clocks, and warrants satisfaction. 
1014 Market street, opposite Fifth. 

Agents wanted for Tunison's New Atlas of 
the United States and World. Call on or ad- 
dress H. C. Tunison, 359 Minna street, S. F. 

An ignorant, stupid man with a hose in his 
hand is the pest of a city. Besides flooding the 
sidewalks and making a mudholc of the nice dry 
gutters, he makes the stone pavements sink by 
undermining them, he washes the mortar out of 
the stone steps, and is an equivalent to six 
months of perpetual rainstorm. 



Every government or bank note we handle tells us that 
it is printed at the Bureau of Engraving and Printing, but 
there is something singularly vague and indistinct even 
in this announcement. The bureau itself is right under 
the shadow of the Washington Monument — a large brick 
building not unlike a factory. It is comparatively new, 
having been erected by Congress in 1880 in order to re- 
lieve the overcrowded condition of the Treasury Depart- 
ment, in w hich the work of preparing money had, up to 
that time, been done. When it is decided by the 
Treasury to issue a new note, the Engraving Bureau is 
notified and the Superintendent directed to prepare a 
design, which he executes in pen and ink, the draw ing 
oftentimes being as fine and delicate as the steel engrav- 
ing itself. This done, the Secretary of the Treasury gives 
his approval, and the drawing is handed over to the en- 
gravers—please note the plural, for no one plate is en- 
graved by a single i>erson. One man cuts out the por- 
trait, another the scroll work, while yet a third attends to 
the ornamentation, and so on, until at least a dozen per- 
sons have had something to do with the preparation. All 
these men are experts, the government paying handsome 
salaries, and sparing no pains to secure the best talent in 
the market. 

It takes a long time to engrave a plate. For over two 
months the engravers were at work on the picture of the 
late President ( iarlield, which is to be seen on the new five- 
dollar bills, and yet a fifty-cent piece would cover it. 
From private manufacturers the steel plates ujxm which 
notes are engraved are bought, their fineness of quality 
and perfect finish rendering them extremely costly. 
Having engraved the faces of a single note, it is easy to 
obtain as many duplicate impressions as are needed. 
The steel, soft when engraved upon, is hardened in a 
firebrick furnace, an intense heat being obtained from 
four Bunsen gas burners at a cost of ten or fifteen cents 
for gas. In thirty minutes the plate is hardened into a 
die. Upon this a roller of soft steel is pressed, and the 
softer metal sinking into the grooves of the hardened 
plate, receive a raised impression. This roller is in turn 
hardened into a die, and in being pressed upon a soft 
plate the latter became a perfect fac simile of the origi- 
nal. This is what is called transferring. 

All of the dies, rolls and plates are handled with the 
greatest care, as would be seen in a few minutes spent in- 
side the grating which surrounds the engraver. The Su- 
perintendent of the engraving division draws upon the 
custodian for such articles as are needed, each one being 
numbered, and giving a separate receipt for each piece 
received. The engravers, in turn, give their receipts, and 
thus there is not a moment when a piece of steel, no mat- 
ter how small, is not accounted for, or is beyond the pale 
of some one's care. Wheji the day's work is over the 
engravers surrender their plates to the Superintendent, 
and when the latter deposits them with the custodian he 
obtains a receipt. The vault is nothing more nor less than 
an immense room built of steel plates. The door is of 
iron, and it has three locks, two of which are separate 
combinations, and the other a time lock. The two com- 
binations are known to one man each, and should either 
die suddenly, an envelope which is in possession of Sec- 
retary Manning, and in which the combination is con- 
tained, would be opened. It is estimated that there are 
40,000 pieces of steel in the vault, and that their com- 
bined weight is fifty tons. Every niece is numbered, and 
can be easily found, some plates being preserved which 
have nothing more on them than a mark of the engraver's 
tool. The capacity of the vault is estimated at 60,000, 
and when it is filled a committee is appointed ky the 
Secretary of the Treasury to select the plates which are 
deemed worthless, and see that they are destroyed. 

The paper used at the bureau does not come directly 
from the mill. For every sheet a requisition has to be 
made on the Treasury, where it is stored. It is a very fine 
and heavy quality of paper, grayish in color, and irregu- 
larly marked with threads of red and blue silk. The 
requisition states for what purpose the paper is to be 
used, thus: 12,000 sheets for $1 bills, 8,000 for $5 bills, 
4,000 for $10 bills, and 2,000 for $20 bills. Before these 
sheets are turned over to the superintendent of the wet- 
ting division they are counted by a force of women spe- 
cially employed for that purpose. Dampening the paper 
and making it mellow for the impression is an important 
part of the work. The sheets are placed between wet 
cloths in packages of ten or fifteen each, and permitted to 
remain over night, requisitions being made in the morn- 
ing for the number of sheets required by each plate 
printer, who has a woman to assist him. The printers 
start work at eight o'clock. They ink the plates and 
revolve them on the press, while the duty of the woman 
is to rub the paper w ith a damp cloth, place it on the 
press, and remove it when it has received the impression. 
Few of the printers work later than three o'clock in the 
afternoon, and on completing their labor make a return 
of the number of sheets printed and the number left over. 
In order to prevent delay at the close of the work, the 
printer sends his sheets in installments of two hundred to 
the office of the superintendent of the printing division, 
and he is credited with them on his pass-book. These 
sheets are not counted in the office, but are sent in locked 
cases to the examining division on the floor below. Here 
an inventory is made of the number claimed, and a few 
moments later the report of the counter is placed opposite. 
Should a printer wish to leave the building before four 
o'clock he is furnished with a pass upon three persons 
having certified, upon actual examination, that he has 
accounted for every sheet intrusted to him and returned 
the plate. A coupon on the pass is sent to the ladies' 
dressing-room for the printer's assistant. Without these 
cards no printer or his assistant can pass the watch- 
man at the doors. Should four o'clock arrive and no 
sound of the gong be heard, it is then understood that 
something is wrong. Perhaps it is only one sheet of pa- 
per that is missing, but until satisfactorily accounted and 
receipted for, all of the employes are kept in the building. 

The supervision is very strict. It is not often that mis- 
takes of this kind occur, and when they do it is generally 
found to be in the counting, which fails to make day s 
work balance. 

And now where are we? In the drying room, to which 
the sheets, still moist from the presses, are conveyed. 
This room is perfectly air-tight, and is heated by steam 
to a temperature of two hundred and fifty degrees Fahren- 
heit. Here the sheets remain over night, and on the 
following morning are counted by experts, who also look 
for imperfections. If there is a blot as big as a pin's head, 
a false register or a slight tear the paper is thrown out, 
and the initials on the corner fix the responsibility for the 
fault. The imperfect sheets thrown out by the first exam- 
iners are afterward gone over by experts, who determine 
whether the defects may be remedied or whether they are 
of sufficient importance to warrant the destruction 01 the 
sheet. The imperfect sheets are held for two or three 
days, and are then sent to the loan division of the secre- 
tary's office, where they are destroyed by the destruction 
committee of the Treasury Department. After the notes 
have gone through the drying room they are rough and 
corrugated. What they now need is to be polished. This 
is done by placing the rough sheets between mill boards 
— two sheets, back to back, between each board. They 
are then placed between hydraulic rams,' which exert a 
pressure of five hundred pounds to the square inch. 
When taken out of the press they are smooth and crisp, 
and resemble those in circulation except for the fact that 
they lack the seals and numbers. The seals,are printed 
from steel plates, in red ink, upon regular Hoe presses. 
The notes are then taken upstairs again and numbered. 
The numbering machines, of course, are automatic, and 
will go upas high as 100,000,000. The letter and charac- 
ters Before and after the number on the note, while serv- 
ing to identify the series, are intended mainly to prevent 
the unauthorized prefixing or affixing of other numbers. 
Now you have your money complete except for the fact 
that there are four notes to the sheet. These are trimmed 
and separated and receive their last count before being 
done up in packages for transportation to the Treasury 
Department. From the time the blank paper is received 
at tne bureau until it leaves as a finished note it is counted 
fifty-two times. It is carried to the Treasury Department 
in a wagon which is literally an iron safe on wheels, and 
which is guarded by several men. The amount of money 
completed every day at the bureau averages about 
$250,000. The employes seem to forget after awhile that 
it is money they are handling. They know, of course, 
that they must constantly exercise a great deal of care, 
but beyond this are evidently not very deeply impressed 
with the value of the material which passes through their 
fingers. And so you have some little idea of how money 
is made. — Brooklyn Eagle. 


Blossom of the almond trees, 
April's gift to April's bees, 
Birthday ornament of spring, 
Flora's fairest daughtering ; 
Coming when no tfowerets dare 
Trust the cruel outer air; 
When the royal kingcup bold 
Dares not don his coat of gold, 
And the sturdy blackthorn spray 
Keeps his silver for the May; 
Coming when no flowerets would, 
Save thy lowly sisterhood, 
Early violets, blue and white, 
Dying for their love of light ! 
Almond blossom, sent to teach us 
That the spring days soon will reach us, 
I-est with longing overtried 
We die as the violets died; 
Blossom crowding all the tree 
With thy crimson 'broidery, 
Long before a leaf of green 
O'er the bravest bough is seen; 
Ah! when winter winds are swinging 
All thy red bells into ringing, 
With a bee in every bell, 
Almond bloom, we greet thee well. 

Edwin Arnt/J. 


Perhaps one of the leading differences between the 
thought of Americans and of old countrymen lies in the 
fact that the American preaches the one sermon — to do a 
single thing and to do it well ; while the man on the other 
hemisphere believes that there are a number of activities 
for the mind and body, the neglect of any of which 
activities would dwarf and narrow the man and shorten 
his days. 

If an American start to do anything, he goes at it with 
such a force, he thinks of it so incessantly, that after three 
weeks he is blood-poisoned with it. He starts to build a 
house. From that moment earth, air and man become 
his enemies. A rainy day is the wrath of the Creator in- 
stead of his beneficence. All bricks come to be adobes, 
and all mortar mud; hard things crumble, while the soft- 
hearted contractor grows stern and unyielding. The 
building goes up slowly ; the debt piles heavenward of a 
night. In a month the unhappy builder cannot speak or 
think of houses with a tranquil mind, because there is a 
rut in his brain; the road is out of order; there should 
be a poll tax. He advises his friends never to build, just 
as, after a year of wedlock, he advised them never to 
marry. His friend buys a house already built. He goes 
into it with plumber, painter, carpenter, paper-hanger, 
mason, gardener, roofer, tinner and gasman. In a month 
he comes out and warns all mankind never to buy — to 

A well-to-do man of business is invited to write an ad- 
dress for the alumni of an academy whence he graduated 
years ago, with honors which prove to have been worthily 
bestowed. Instead of sitting down and giving a valuable 
picture of his own life and its lesson, the gentleman, as it 
were, " cleans house " within the chambers of his brain. 
He reads everything in feverish haste ; hebuys new cere- 

bral furniture, carpets, and hangings, and redecorates the 
premises. Then ne shuts himself up, alarms his wife, 
who apprehends an apoplectic attack, meets the enemy, 
and the enemy are his. Vet the great address smells new 
and varnishy. As for your orator, the very word " ad- 
dress " drives away his returning appetite. Oh, he did it ! 
Yes, Americans always do a thing when they set out to 
do it, but does it pay? Is not the system wrong? Should 
the mind be a sun^glass, always burning into the life's 
force — a lathe, cutting beautifully into human content- 
ment? Shall it profit the pillar to be exquisitely turned 
if it be weakened with every convolution? 

The walker toils six days and nights, and a city full of 
people cheer him on. He covers five hundred miles. 
He sails to London and walks there six days. He comes 
back and must now walk six hundred miles in the six 
days, as, by additional torture, other Americans have 
found it could be accomplished. Never a public demand 
for moderation ; triumph with moderation would not be 
spicy enough. Is it not an outcome of our national craze 
for monotony ? 

The ethics of American thought and industry even 
clutches the reward of a well-spent life from the grasp 
of old age. The man of affairs finds himself beyond the 
need of money. Suppose he sell out and retire: it is 
collapse; it is death. The subject in Poe's tale has been 
kept animated for many months by mesmeric force. The 
force was withdrawn suddenly, and the subject crumbled 
to ashes. The man of affairs must return to business or 
he will finish the same way. He must die in the harness. 
It is the wages of American success — the triumph of 
specialism and concentration. 

The misleading possibilities of monomania have lured 
all Americans into a state of unrest — a sort of death- 
watch — which seems to be visiting its evil effects mainly 
on the young. When diphtheria enters a house, one, 
two, and sometimes three little children fall away. The 
mother's " health is shattered" or she loses her wits, but 
the community on the street ceases to speak of the horror 
in a few weeks- -why? Because the same thing has sub- 
sequently happened in some house a little nearer. Now, 
w hen you and I were young, we never heard even the 
name of diphtheria. Our children are weaker than we 
were. They fair as the grain before the blast. 

And we see little children wearing spectacles in school. 
Here is a reason for it : Every street car you enter is 
filled with fathers of little ones. Each of these fathers, 
to save half an hour's time, is reading the morning's news- 
paper. For years these fathers have ridden from one to 
three miles in this jolting vehicle, with the light changing 
at every turn of the wheels, and with the focus of the eye 
adjusting itself to the print with lightning-like rapidity. 
If there were a sliding glass made for reading on the 
street car, with visible mechanism so subtle that the focus 
could be self-adjusted with every trembling of the object 
— say the wheels should fly back and forth like the bal- 
ance spring of a watch — would not the reader in the car 
begin to understand the task which he puts on the 
muscles and nerves of the eyes when he opens a news- 
paper in the moving car? He may possibly not be wear- 
ing out his own eyes, but he is wearing out his future 
children's — and this beyond the chance of a doubt. 

All fevers have their limits, and they must run their 
course. The fever of business, or letters, or music, or 
art, is no exception. The only alternative lies in the pos- 
sibility that the patient may die half-way through. Is it 
not time that men began to reform this thing? What has 
success come to be in America? Only disgust in the 
healthy, death in the weak. We can tolerate just one 
thing at a time, and monotony is fast undoing us. 

What practical thing can a man do in behalf of himself 
and his posterity? 

It is coming to be summer. This man has promised 
himself a rest. Let him take it. F urthermore, let him 
make no attempt to deceive Time and Nature — to do his 
work and rest at the same time. If he must " catch up " 
after his return to toil, he will o